


All Will Be Well

by AGirlNamedEd



Series: Green Lantern's Light [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Blue Lantern Future Trunks, Blue Lantern Goku, Gen, Green Lantern Gohan, Green Lantern Yamcha, Lantern Corps Fusion AU, Star Sapphire Chi-Chi, spoilers in the tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Gohan's starting to get used to this whole Green Lantern thing, a young man from the future shows up, bringing with him terrible news, several years worth of problems, and a ring scarily similar to Gohan's...</p>
<p>(Green Lantern Corps Fusion AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look to the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> *at full volume* I'M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR GOHAN PAIN

“So _that’s_ where that thing went.”

Gohan could practically hear Kojass running a hand across its face on the other end of the line. About two days after Kojass had left, it demonstrated a ring function it’d forgotten to tell Gohan about: the communicator function. It nearly scared the pants off Gohan the first time Kojass’s disembodied voice came through his ring, but now he was almost used to it. Kojass called him every few weeks to keep him updated on various Lantern news, particularly the search for Gohan’s rogue ring. With Yamcha’s return, though, it seemed that particular little mystery was solved.

“So what should we do with it?” Gohan asked. “Do you need to come get it?”

There was a long pause. “The Guardians may curse me for this, but I think it would be alright if you kept it.”

“Are you sure?” he said, privately relieved. Now that Bulma had a second ring to research, one that practically lived with her, she’d eased up on dragging him out to her lab when he visited Capsule Corp.

“No,” Kojass said merrily. “But what the Guardians don’t know won’t hurt them, and if you say this Yamcha person is a reliable ring candidate, then I trust you. But it’ll be up to you, as creator of his ring and senior ring-bearer--” Gohan snorted at the idea of him being “senior” to anyone. He was still only six. “I know, I know,” Kojass said, “it sounded silly as soon as I said it. But it will be your responsibility to train him and teach him about the Green Lantern Corps. Can you handle that?”

Gohan fidgeted. “Probably?”

“If there’s anything you don’t know,” it said kindly, “you can always ask me.”

Taking a deep breath, Gohan nodded, even though he knew Kojass couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“I do not doubt it.” Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew Kojass was smiling. “Say hello to your mother for me.”

~~~

Chi-Chi ushered Gohan towards Dende. “Go play, honey. I need to go talk to Bulma.”

Beaming, Gohan rushed off to where Dende was sitting with Cargo, listening to one of the older Namekians (what was his name again? Katatosho?) tell a story. Gohan sat next to Dende gently, smiling when Dende leaned over to press into his side briefly in greeting. The older Namekian nodded at Gohan to acknowledge him, but continued his story. “That was when the Grand Elder knew there was something special in this young Namekian. He helped him unlock his latent potential, and it was a good thing he did, because not long after that Kuji was offered the chance to join the Green Lantern Corps.”

Gohan started. He hadn’t realized exactly what the story was about. He glanced at Dende, whose eyes were flicking from Katatosho to Gohan’s ring.

“Joining the Corps was a great honour, we were told,” Katatosho continued, “and it was particularly fortunate that Kuji was of the Warrior clan. Someone from the Dragon clan might not have fared so well.”

“Did Kuji ever come back after he left?” Cargo wanted to know.

Katatosho chuckled. “He did, several times! But not for the last fifty years or so. Apparently, there was some kind of crisis going on at the Lantern base that took up much of his time.” He smiled sadly. “Before all that, though, he came to visit Namek as frequently as he could. Being the guardian of one planet is a hard job--being guardian of twenty star systems is another thing entirely!”

“I don’t know how hard it would be to be a guardian of one planet,” Dende piped up. “When we went to visit...um…” He looked at Gohan for help.

“His name is Kami,” Gohan said.

“Kami,” Dende said, “when we went to visit Kami it didn’t look like his job was _that_ hard.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” Gohan admonished, but Katatosho just laughed aloud. “It’s not funny,” Gohan said indignantly, folding his arms. “You don’t know what he does up there all day!”

Katatosho smiled down at him. “Do you?”

Gohan floundered. “That’s...besides the point,” he said, using one of Chi-Chi’s favourite phrases.

“I’m not sure it is.”

“What was the big emergency?” Cargo asked, apparently bored with arguing about what someone he didn’t know did all day. “The one that kept Kuji from visiting? Is that why we never met him?”

“Yes, you younger ones never met him because he stopped coming home.” Katatosho’s face became sombre again, and he glanced towards the pod Bulma had built that now housed Kuji’s body. Moori had insisted that they take him with them when they went to their new planet, whenever that would be, to bury him properly. According to Moori and Katatosho, that meant burying him and planting a tree over his burial site. It wouldn’t be quite the same as burying him on his actual home planet, but it was better than burying him on a completely alien planet--at least this way his memorial would be around those who remembered him most. “He never went into specifics,” Katatosho continued, “but he said the crisis was something that needed the attention of the entire Corps. Something to do with yellow.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what that was all about, but if he was leaving there they must’ve solved it.”

Dende suddenly gripped Gohan’s hand, the one bearing the ring, and locked eyes with him. “You will be careful when you join the Corps, right?”

Gohan blinked. “Well...yeah. Of course.”

After searching his face for a moment, Dende nodded once, satisfied, though he didn’t let go of Gohan’s hand. “Good. You have to stay safe.” His fingers brushed against Gohan’s ring and he knew Dende was thinking about the fate of the last person to wear it.

“I will,” he promised. Well. He’d do his best, anyway.

Dende had asked him to.

~~~

Chi-Chi barely glanced up at the giant glowing green dragon speeding past her window. She knew it was just a construct of her son’s, and he knew to keep those away from the house. Ever since Yamcha had come back to life with a Green Lantern ring of his own, the two of them had been training together constantly, with Bulma complaining good-naturedly that Yamcha spent more time at the Son house than hers.

Oddly, Chi-Chi didn’t mind this training as much as she did Gohan’s martial arts training. Or perhaps it wasn’t so odd--Piccolo wasn’t involved, after all, and she knew Yamcha to be a respectable man (after all, he was friends with her husband) who would never subject Gohan to the harsh training that demon had. (She still didn’t understand why Gohan liked him so much and insisted he was such a good person.) And when Gohan was using his Lantern powers, he tended to hang back and let his constructs do the fighting, so there was less chance of him getting hurt. All in all, if her baby boy was going to be fighting at all, this was the way to do it.

And his training with Yamcha was good for another reason as well. Chi-Chi glanced at the calendar on the kitchen wall as she stirred the soup she was making. Today made four months to the day since Goku had refused to come home. She missed him so much, and she knew Gohan did too. At least Gohan had Dende to play with and Yamcha and Piccolo (when he could convince her it was okay) to train with to help keep his mind off it.

She walked to the door of the house and leaned in the doorway to watch the two of them for a minute. Gohan still couldn’t properly control larger constructs by himself, something that continued to frustrate him, but if he and Yamcha worked together at it they could get them under control. They’d both suited up for pracise, Yamcha insisting that they needed to wear the proper uniforms if they were going to train. Gohan didn’t seem to mind, in fact he kept making changes to the uniform every couple of days. Adding or removing accents and patterns, mostly, but it made him happy.

Now Gohan was clinging to the construct Shenron’s neck, laughing as he soared through the air while Yamcha directed from the ground. Yamcha grinned at her when he noticed her at the door. “Want a turn?” he asked.

Chi-Chi laughed. “I’ll stick to the nimbus, thanks. Lunch is ready.”

Yamcha nodded and looked up. “Gohan,” he called up, “breaktime.”

Construct Shenron disappeared as abruptly as the real Shenron did, and Gohan dropped to the ground, landing gently in front of the two adults. Chi-Chi’s hand had flown to her chest when she saw her son dropping out of the sky and she glared at Yamcha. “You be careful with him! You can’t just stop the construct he’s riding on--what if he--”

“Mom,” Gohan said.

“Not now, Gohan. What if he’d landed badly? Don’t you--”

“ _Mom,_ ” Gohan said again, more forcefully. “It wasn’t Yamcha’s construct.”

She paused. “I thought Yamcha was controlling it.”

“I was,” Yamcha said. “We both were. But it was Gohan’s construct. He got to decide what it looked like and I just helped make it do what he wanted.”

“Yamcha’s really good at energy manipulation!” Gohan beamed. Yamcha blushed and curled a finger into his hair at the compliment. “So he’s teaching me about it and I’m teaching him about all the stuff Kojass taught me.”

Chi-Chi blinked, immediately feeling silly for lecturing someone she didn’t need to. “Oh. Well. Be more careful, Gohan.” Turning, she hurried back into the house to hide her embarrassment.

Yamcha wasn’t far behind her. “I didn’t think he’d just drop the construct entirely,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, sighing. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I overreacted--Gohan’s been flying so long now; I shoulda known he’d be fine.”

Yamcha chuckled. “Well, it’s only natural to worry about your family! Kami knows I worry about Puar and Bulma often enough.”

Chi-Chi looked over her shoulder at him. Yamcha had switched off the ring, and was back in Turtle orange, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face. Shaking her head, she smiled as she hefted the enormous soup pot off the stove. “Well, it’s good to know there’s someone who understands. Enough of that--this soup ain’t gonna eat itself!”

~~~

“Gohan, I have news.”

Squawking and falling backwards were the only reason Gohan didn’t get hit in the face by Piccolo. “Pay attention!” Piccolo growled. “We’re supposed to be sparring, not gossiping with your coworkers!”

“Is that your Namekian friend?” Kojass’s voice asked through Gohan’s ring. “The grumpy one who acts like your parent when they aren’t around?”

Piccolo flushed, which didn’t surprise Gohan at all. “I do not!”

“Kojass,” Gohan said, trying to change the subject, “you said you’d send a warning when you wanted to talk.”

“I’m sorry, but this was important. I have two pieces of very big news.”

Settling into a seated position in the air, Gohan looked up at Piccolo. “This may take a minute.”

Piccolo huffed. “Fine. I’ll be meditating. When you come back, your job is to try to catch me off guard and attack me. If you don’t, I’m extending training time.”

“That’s not fair!” But Piccolo had already flown off in a huff. “Sorry about that,” he said to Kojass. “He’s grumpy, but he worries about me.”

“I do not!”

Kojass laughed. “It may be best not to let him know you’re onto him.”

“You said you had news. Is it good news or bad news?”

Its voice became serious. “A little of both. The better news is that I found a planet for the Namekians to live on.”

Gohan perked up. “Great! I’ll go tell Dende; they’ll be so…” He trailed off. “Glad.” Dende would be leaving. He’d leave Earth and never come back. An emptiness gripped his chest.

“Yes, well, it’s a little complicated.” Kojass paused. “You see, the planet is a Green Lantern.”

Gohan blinked. “Come again?”

“The planet itself. Sayux is its name. It’s a living planet, a world protected by itself. Few have seen it in action, and fewer have survived the encounter.”

“And you want the Namekians to live there?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Kojass said hastily, “Sayux is a wonderful planet! Lush, full of life, peaceful. If Frieza were still alive, his army would have quite a hard time taking the Namekians down again if they lived on Sayux. And it volunteered for the job, which is incredibly rare. Sayux is a solitary sort.”

“I can imagine.”

“If you could relay the message, that would be fantastic. The only problem is I have no idea how they would all get there.”

Gohan thought of the Dragon Balls and shrugged. “I think we can figure that out on our own.”

He could almost hear Kojass smiling. “Good lad. You’re quite resourceful, aren’t you?” Gohan blushed with pride at the compliment. “Anyway, the second news.” Kojass took a deep breath. “I believe I found your father.”

Gohan’s hand gripped his pant leg. “What?”

“Your father is a Saiyan with no tail? And massively powerful?”

His breathing went funny. “Y-yeah, that’s my dad. Son Goku.”

“The very same. Yellow hair, for some reason. I always thought all Saiyans had black hair. But no matter. I found him on Yardrat, a planet in my sector. I was on a routine patrol when the ring sensed him. I tried to convince him to go home to you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” His throat was starting to close up and he swallowed. He was going to cry and he had no reason to.

“It didn’t work anyway. He said he had to stay away, it wasn’t safe for him to go home yet. I believe his exact words were ‘I could hurt someone without meaning to, and if I hurt my little boy my wife’d have my head.’”

“Super Saiyan,” Gohan mumbled. “He...he can’t really control it that good. Well. Can’t control it that well.”

“He was learning a few techniques--one to keep himself under control, and another one he didn’t elaborate much on. I helped translate between him and the Yardrats for a bit before I left. But I felt you should know he was safe and would come home when he felt you would be, too.”

Gohan nodded, digging his fingernails into his palm. “Okay.”

“Gohan? Are you alright?”

“I miss him.” The words were past his lips before Gohan could stop them. He’d hardly seen his father at all in the last two years, and when he did they were always surrounded by fighting and death. He wanted it to go back to the way it had been before--maybe he’d been spoiled, sure, and maybe he cried at the drop of a hat, but at least then his family had all been _together_.

“I know,” Kojass said gently. “But--and I don’t say this about many people, let alone those I just met--I trust Son Goku. He will come back to you, Gohan. And if he doesn’t, I’ll put him in a bubble and _make_ him.”

That startled a laugh out of Gohan. “Okay.”

“Alright. You go find your mentor and surprise him else he gets impatient.”

“Oh, Piccolo’s been here the whole time.” He grinned in triumph at the annoyed shout from a few trees over. “He worries.”

Piccolo stomped around the tree. “At least your ki sense is getting better--I had it suppressed as low as it would go. Now hang up and fight me.”

Kojass chuckled. “Good luck, Son Gohan,” it said. “I think you might need it.”

~~~

Gohan gripped Dende’s hands and did his best not to cry. “I don’t want you to go,” he said.

“Neither of us have much choice,” Dende replied quietly, squeezing Gohan’s hands. “I’m going to miss you.”

Sniffling, Gohan nodded. “Me too. I’ll miss you too.”

The others stood a little ways off, respecting the children’s need for a goodbye. Moori shook hands with Bulma and her parents, thanking them for their hospitality, Chi-Chi kept a watchful eye trained on Gohan, Piccolo stood as far away from her as he could and observed disdainfully. It was time for the Namekians to go to their new planet, and Gohan wasn't going to see Dende again for a very long time. And Goku _still_ hadn’t come home.

“Maybe you can visit,” Dende suggested. “When you’re a full Green Lantern. You can come to Sayux and see everybody and we can play together again.”

“That doesn’t change that you’re leaving _now_.”

Dende pressed their foreheads together. “We’ll see each other again, okay? Promise me.”

Gohan put his arms around Dende in a hug. “Okay. I promise.”

“Good.” Dende looked up at Moori and Katatosho, who had come to join them. “Are we going?”

“Yes.” Moori gave a small bow to Gohan. “We can’t thank you enough for all you have done. Please pass our thanks along to your father as well, when he returns.”

Gohan swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to smile back. “Yeah.”

In a few seconds, the Namekians were all gone, Porunga had disappeared, and Gohan was crying into his mother’s apron.


	2. Hope!! Shines Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frieza's back, then he isn't. Piccolo is uncomfortable. Blue is underrated and mysterious, and no one has any idea what's going on.
> 
> Par for the course, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slamming hands on the table* SUFFER SUFFER SUFFER SUFFER

Gohan tapped his pencil against his workbook, tongue poking just slightly out of his mouth in concentration. Carry the one...add the tens...don’t forget the decimal…

He sighed. Math was hard.

He wrote down “43.6” and moved on to the next question. If he was lucky, when his math was done he could go see Piccolo today. Or maybe Yamcha. He was fidgety and wanted to run around and move today, and he’d finally gotten his little dragon construct all set to go, with wings and horns and big cute eyes, and he wanted to show it off. It was the most complicated construct he’d ever made that he could control without Yamcha’s help--it had been over a year since Gohan got his ring, and he still had a hard time with big or detailed constructs. It frustrated him to no end, no matter how much advice Kojass gave through their now-weekly ring talks or encouragement Yamcha gave him whenever they trained together.

(Piccolo didn’t say much about the ring when he saw him. Gohan figured it made him uncomfortable for some reason, but he couldn’t figure out why.)

Either way, though, Gohan still had three more math questions to figure out before he could go anywhere. He started to busy himself with #18 when something appeared at the edge of his awareness. A ki that was huge, and familiar, and as dark and cold as the depths of space.

And there were two of them.

Gohan’s chest froze and his breath came shallow. He knew who one of those ki belonged to. And Goku still wasn’t home--what were they supposed to do without him there?

He bit the inside of his lip as hard as he could without drawing blood. No. He couldn’t be scared. He had “the ability to overcome great fear.” And who better embodied “great fear” than Frieza himself?

~~~

Apparently, Gohan found while standing between Piccolo and Krillin and watching Frieza’s spaceship from a distance, the answer to that was “Frieza himself, plus his father and a good-sized army.” Fantastic.

“Okay,” Yamcha was saying, “we can handle this, right guys? I mean sure, Goku’s not here, but Frieza’s gotta be really beaten up after Namek, right? Look at him! He’s practically falling apart!”

“More importantly,” Bulma interrupted, “you and Gohan have those rings of yours now. So why doesn’t everyone else rush him while you two stand at the back and clobber him with your constructs?”

Gohan fidgeted absently with his ring and kept his eyes trained on Frieza’s ship. He couldn’t be scared--not now, not when everyone was depending on him.

That didn’t seem to be stopping him.

A hand fell on his shoulder. “Calm down,” Piccolo murmured. “The fight hasn’t even started yet.”

Gohan nodded, drawing in a deep breath. He couldn’t be afraid. Not now. There’d be time for that later.

“They’re on the move,” Tien said suddenly. Sure enough, the squadron of soldiers Frieza had brought with him had started to lift into the air. The fighters started to take up their preferred battle stances, Vegeta’s feet lifted off the ground (probably to charge them head-on like the battle-hungry psychopath he was), Bulma turned and scrambled for cover--

And there was a series of wet _splat_ sounds followed by a lot of screaming, and by the time Gohan registered what was going on the soldiers were in pieces on the ground and there was a teenage boy standing in front of Frieza and his father, sliding a sword into a sheath on his back like nothing had just happened.

He blinked, then looked around at his companions to see if they had any idea who that was or what was going on. From the expressions on their faces, that was a no. Vegeta in particular looked disturbed, but confused.

And then the boy went Super Saiyan and the world turned upside down.

~~~

Piccolo could hear Vegeta’s teeth grinding and Tien’s thoughts spilling past the mental block Chiaotzu kept around the two of them at all times (being psychic wasn’t worth it if you asked him, but no one ever asked him) and Bulma talking to the mysterious boy who had shown up out of nowhere and none of them were covering up the incessant _noise_ coming out of that infernal ring of Gohan’s.

Damn his ears. He could hear a flea cough ninety miles off but he couldn’t block out sound worth a damn. And Gohan’s ring kept giving off a soft, droning buzz that apparently only he could hear, which he couldn’t block out unless he put his fingers in his ears and hummed, which also meant he couldn’t hear anything else (except Bulma yelling, because life was unfair like that).

How the hell had Kuji stood it to actually _wear_ the damn thing for so long? It was driving Piccolo crazy just being near it for long periods of time, which was a problem because it was attached to Gohan, the only person he could stand to be around for long periods of time. For only a few minutes it was fine, he could tune it out, but it just got more insistent as time went on, and he swore he could almost hear words coming from it sometimes.

He could never quite make out what the words were saying, but he was reasonably sure they weren’t even complete sentences. They sounded vaguely comforting, but it still set his teeth on edge. It was driving him to distraction and he was _supposed_ to be keeping an eye on what the hell was going on but with the damn ring babbling and buzzing he was having a harder time than usual.

Gohan had believed the new person immediately when he said he didn’t mean them any harm and that he knew where Goku was going to be. Piccolo hadn’t trusted him, but he grudgingly went along with the others, if only so he could blast the kid and say “I told you so” if things went to hell. (And to keep Gohan safe. That was most important. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind and refused to dwell on it. Soft thoughts like that were to be ignored, no matter how true they were.) So far, it had been a couple of hours and still nothing had happened.

The boy (who refused to give his name, which wasn’t helping Piccolo’s trust issues) said there was still around another hour until Goku showed up. He sat a little ways off, occasionally stealing looks at Gohan, Vegeta, and Bulma when he thought no one was looking. He’d asked few questions and answered even less, but despite his reticence he looked like he wanted to talk. He was holding back for some reason. Just one more reason for Piccolo not to trust him until he proved worthy of Piccolo’s trust.

He hoped Goku showed up soon, if only so he could leave immediately. This waiting around business combined with the ring nonsense was slowly driving him insane.

~~~

Gohan gingerly sat next to the mysterious young man. “So how come you can’t tell us your name?”

The boy sighed and ran a hand through his purple hair. “I told you, I just can’t.”

“How come you’re a Super Saiyan? Vegeta said there was only supposed to be one.”

To his surprise, the boy chuckled bitterly. “Don’t tell him I said this, but it turns out he was wrong. About a lot of things, surprisingly.”

 

“I won’t.” Gohan peered up at him. “What’s that?” He pointed to a small lump under the boy’s shirt. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there’d been a lot going on--Frieza, mystery men from nowhere, the sudden news that Goku was coming back. He’d been kind of distracted.

“What, this?” Reaching into his shirt, the boy pulled out a ring attached to a string. It was clunky and inelegant and if it weren’t for the colour Gohan would’ve thought it was a Green Lantern ring. But it was blue, and though it had a similar shape it clearly didn’t belong to the Corps. “To be honest, I’m not really sure. One day I was out training and a meteor crashed a little ways off. Thankfully no one was hurt when I went to investigate, but this was in the middle of the crater. I don’t know what it is or where it came from, but I’ve kept it as kind of a good luck talisman.” Another bitter laugh. “I can use all the luck I can get these days.”

“Oh.” Gohan was surprised he’d been that forthcoming with details, considering how few questions he’d given straight answers for up until then. He held up his own ring. “It kinda looks like mine.”

The boy looked, then did a double take. “So it does.” He held his ring next to Gohan’s for comparison. Same size, same shape, the only differences were the colour and the symbol--while the symbol on Gohan’s was a simple stylized lantern, the one on the blue ring was a bit more complicated. “I wonder if they’re--”

He never finished his sentence because at that moment a brilliant blue light burst out of the ring, sending both of them flying away from each other, and when Gohan scrambled to his feet he was met with the sight of the ring floating in front of the boy’s face, his eyes glowing blue and transfixed on the ring, breathing shallow. The light cut out as quickly as it came, the boy’s eyes stopped glowing, and the ring dropped into his lap. The boy was shaking, his breathing still not quite right, and Gohan rushed to him, reaching him around the same time as Bulma.

“Are you alright?” Bulma asked, a hand on his shoulder. “What was that all about?”

“It knew my name,” the boy managed weakly. He swallowed and blinked, then looked down at the ring in his lap. “What the hell is this thing?”

Gohan held up his own ring, about to call Kojass and ask if it had any ideas, but before he could the boy’s head snapped up and he scrambled to his feet, the ring falling out of his lap. “He’s here,” he announced, scooping up the ring and shoving it in his pants pocket before jogging off.

Gohan took off after him. He could put that incident out of his mind for now--

Goku was coming back. For real this time.

~~~

As soon as Goku stepped out of the little pod he’d spent the last month sleeping in, he knew something was up. Why else would everyone be gathered like they knew where he’d be? He did a quick head count and it looked like pretty much everyone was there (except Chi-Chi, he noted, and that made his heart ache a little), so maybe he’d actually arrived before Frieza? Except who was that, the purple-haired guy? And everyone was cheering? What was going on?

His confusion was interrupted by someone slamming into his waist. Wrapping his arms around them out of instinct, he looked down to see Gohan (of course it was Gohan, who else would it be) wrapped around him and babbling into his chest “you’re alive, you came back, I missed you so much” over and over.

He shifted his arms to better support his son and rubbed circles into his upper back. “Hi, Gohan,” he said quietly. “Missed you too.”

~~~

Trunks forced himself not to look at the ground and instead regarded Goku steadily. Getting everything he had to say off his chest felt great, but somehow he still managed to make himself feel guilty. Goku had just gotten back from an entirely different world-saving thing, and now here he was showing up out of nowhere, taking him away from his friends and family (only for a few minutes--he had no doubt Goku would immediately go tell them what was going on, it was in his nature according to his mom), and asking him to save the world again. He had no real reason for Goku to believe a word he said aside from his ability to go Super Saiyan, but Goku seemed to believe him readily enough, which was a nice change of pace from the death glares he’d been getting from Piccolo and Vegeta.

Admitting his parentage had been the hardest part. Well, admitting it to Goku had been pretty easy, but considering how this timeline’s versions of his parents had acted towards him--Bulma flirted with him (his mother had said she was a wild one back in the day, but _still_ ), and Vegeta was exceedingly hostile for no reason he could figure out. Was it because he was a Super Saiyan? Honestly, why couldn’t he be Goku’s kid instead? Then he and Gohan could _actually_ be brothers and maybe he would’ve been stronger earlier and _his_ Gohan would still--

“Trunks? Are you okay?”

He snapped back to reality to see Goku peering at his face, clearly confused and concerned. “You zoned out for a second there,” he said. “You alright?”

Trunks nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. I got caught up thinking about things and--it’s nothing; never mind.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and one finger brushed against the ring he’d hastily shoved in there earlier. _That_ was a whole little mystery in and of itself, one that Trunks could work on more when he went back home maybe. It had known his _name_. That was the weirdest part, even aside from the glowing and floating and the voice in his head. It called him by _name_.

“Oh, hey, before you go, I gotta question.” Goku held his hand out to Trunks, and his heart just about stopped, because on Goku’s hand was a blue ring. “You ever seen one of these before?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a horrible evil person who must be stopped at all costs
> 
> Yes Icarus is a construct now :P


	3. With Strong Hearts Full

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku's back! Unfortunately, he brings with him more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my name is Ed and I have weird ships let's see if you folks can figure out which ones are going to be canon by the end of this mess

“See, it just sorta showed up outta nowhere one day while I was on Yardrat,” Goku explained. Trunks had gone pale when he showed him his ring, and he figured an explanation was in order. “I was training and suddenly it dropped out of the sky at me. I thought it was attacking me at first, but then it jammed itself on my finger and, uh…” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Now I can’t get it off.”

“Did…” Trunks’s voice cracked. He took a deep breath and started again. “Did it...say anything?”

Goku tilted his head. “What? No, it’s a ring. Rings can’t talk.” What was he on about? What kind of weird technology had Bulma cooked up in the future that made Trunks think rings could talk? Then again, she _had_ made the Dragon Radar _and_ a time machine, so talking rings would probably be nothing for her. Maybe they used rings as communicators in the future--

“Uh,” Trunks said, pulling something out of his pocket, “I...sort of have one too.”

“Oh.” Goku blinked at the ring in Trunks’s hand. It was identical to his. “Neat. How’d you get yours off?”

“It, uh,” Trunks shifted awkwardly and looked away, “I didn’t have to. It just didn’t attach itself to me. It was just a normal ring for a long time until I got it close to Gohan’s ring and it started glowing and told me I had the power to ‘instill great hope.’” He put the ring back in his pocket and scratched the side of his nose. “It knew my name and everything, too.”

“Great hope, huh?” Goku folded his arms. “I guess I’ll ask Gohan about it--” Something suddenly occurred to him. “Wait, Gohan’s got one of these too?”

“S-sort of? It was green.”

Goku remembered the guy that had shown up on Yardrat, a big orange furball with too many legs, and he looked back at the group. Yep, Gohan’s outfit looked a _lot_ like that guy’s. “Okay. I’ll ask Gohan about it then.”

“Wait,” Trunks said, reaching forward slightly, as though to grab Goku by the arm before he could leave. “Remember what I told you about the androids--whatever’s going on with these rings, they’re not the main problem here. The androids are.”

Goku waved vaguely, hoping to wave Trunks’s worries away with the gesture. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it! Three years from now, just southwest of South City, two androids, super powerful, yadda yadda. I’m aaaaall over it.”

Trunks didn’t look convinced.

“Oh, right.” Goku stuck a hand into his pocket and ran his thumb over the medicine bottle. “And take this if my heart starts hurting. No problem!”

Trunks still looked concerned, but he’d relaxed a little. Goku let out a small sigh. Did he really think he’d be that unreliable? What kind of stories had Bulma been telling him about him in the future? “Alright. Um, one last thing: please don’t tell anyone about who my parents are. If they’re uncomfortable with it, I might not ever get born…”

Goku took his hand out of his pocket to flash a thumbs-up at Trunks. “No problem. I can handle that.” He grinned. “Well, looks like I’ve got something to train towards again!”

The look of disbelief on Trunks’s face was only sort of a surprise. “Y-you...aren’t you worried? These androids are in the process of _destroying the world_ in my timeline and everyone is dead!”

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Goku conceded, “but training _for_ something is always better than training because I can. I mean I love working harder to get stronger, but I always have more fun if I’m training towards a goal! That way when I reach the goal I know if I trained hard enough or not!” Trunks’s jaw fell open slightly. “As for the other thing--the everyone being dead thing,” Goku added, “if we work together then that won’t happen this time.” He knew he sounded overconfident, but if there was one thing he prided himself on besides his battle prowess it was his belief in himself and his friends. Things were going to turn out very differently this time around, he was sure of it. They’d get through this okay, and no one would have to die.

Except the androids, of course. That was kind of a given.

“If you say so,” Trunks said, still looking uncertain. “I’d better get going. I don’t want to stay in this timeline too long; I have no idea how much I’m messing things up just by being here.”

“Will you come back? To fight the androids, I mean,” Goku added. “You’re really strong if you beat Frieza all by yourself--and from the sounds of things, we can probably use all the help we can get!”

Trunks turned to go. “If I’m still alive by the time the time machine is ready for another trip...yeah. Absolutely.”

Goku grinned. “I’ll hold you to that. See you in three years, Trunks!”

With a tentative thumbs-up, Trunks was gone, and Goku turned back towards his friends, mind whirling as he tried to figure out what to tell them.

~~~

“If you try it, I’ll kill you. Got that?”

Yamcha wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Vegeta, really. To be honest, he’d really liked Bulma’s suggestion of finding this Gero guy before he could finish building the androids and dealing with him now--it would definitely save them a lot of pain and problems in the future, if what Goku said was anything to go by. But Vegeta, being Vegeta, wanted a fight, and he sighed in resignation. He kept a close eye on the two of them--if Vegeta decided he was going to go after her anyway, he could at least protect her long enough for her to get away if nothing else--but stayed out of the way. Bulma had always made it perfectly clear he didn’t always need to get between her and danger, even if he felt he did.

But Vegeta blasted off after blustering about surpassing Goku, and despite himself Yamcha almost felt sorry for the guy--seeing the vastness of the gulf between your ability and Goku’s could really do a number on you. And Vegeta wasn’t exactly the most emotionally stable person to begin with.

“I’m with Vegeta on this one.”

Yamcha wasn’t too surprised by that one, either, although the others didn’t seem to share the sentiment. “Are you crazy?!” Krillin asked. “Why would you take his side?”

Goku shrugged. “Well, he hasn’t _done_ anything yet. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“He belonged to the Red Ribbon Army,” Bulma reminded him. “I’m pretty sure he’s done at least _something_.”

“Still, though. I wanna see just how strong these androids are! Sounds like fun!”

And honestly, Yamcha wasn’t sure what else he’d expected.

~~~

“And that’s all I know.” Goku tapped at the blue ring stuck to his right middle finger. “It doesn’t wanna come off.”

Gohan had a puzzled frown on his face, eyes flicking from Goku’s ring to his own. “How long’s it been since you got it?”

“Um…” Goku folded his arms and looked at the sky thoughtfully. “Probably ‘bout a month? Time is weird in space. I didn’t even know I’d been gone so long until that green guy told me so!”

Piccolo stood a little ways off, close enough to hear the conversation but far enough that the noises from Gohan’s ring were dulled. Goku’s ring didn’t give off any residual white noise, and Piccolo was grateful. Gohan’s was bad enough, especially when combined with Yamcha’s (which was quieter than Gohan’s, but still there). He was already sick of this ring business, he wanted to be _literally anywhere else_ rather than dealing with all this nonsense.

“Well, we’re heading out.”

Piccolo turned his head slightly. There was Tien beside him, Chiaotzu at his side as usual. He had his hands in his pockets and his eyes turned towards Piccolo. Piccolo gave him a nod. “See you in three years, then.” Although, he reflected, it might be beneficial to meet up before then, if only to make sure they were on the right track towards defeating the androids.

Tenshinhan seemed to have the same idea, because he nodded back and said “Hopefully I’ll see you before then.” For some reason, his face flushed when he said it. “I mean, it’d be nice to train together, maybe. Or, well, not _nice_ , per se, but--good. I think it’d be a good idea.”

Piccolo turned to look down at him properly. “You think so?” He caught Chiaotzu’s eye by accident, and the impassive, wide-eyed look he gave Piccolo sent a chill down his spine. He wasn’t entirely sure why. “If you think so, then we probably should.”

Tien gave him a brief smile, tight and forced, and Piccolo frowned at it. This wasn’t like Tien. And it wasn’t like Piccolo to care, but he did. “Well, I’ll see you around the wastelands, then.” And he was gone, Chiaotzu in his wake.

Before Piccolo had a chance to figure out what that was all about, there was a shout from Gohan, and Piccolo whirled to see him holding his ring out to Goku’s, blue light spilling from Goku’s ring, washing over them both and almost blinding Piccolo. He threw his hands up to shield his eyes, but almost as soon as it started it was over, the light fading.

_Son Goku of Earth._ The voice reverberated in Piccolo’s mind, and from the way everyone else flinched it was clear they’d heard it as well. _What do you hope for?_

“Hope?” Goku lowered his arms from where they’d been shielding his face and looked around, presumably for wherever the voice had come from. “Um, I don’t, really?”

Piccolo rolled his eyes. Of course he didn’t. Hope was pointless--what good was it to just hope for something rather than doing anything about it? Goku may have been an idiot, but he was a practical idiot, Piccolo would give him that.

“Dad, what was that?” Gohan asked. He gripped Goku’s pants leg with one hand, looking up at him with huge eyes. “Why did it ask you that?”

Goku shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know _who_ asked me that.”

“It was the ring,” Gohan said confidently. “Bulma and I think they’re sentient.”

“Well, not totally sentient,” Bulma chimed in, elbowing past Yamcha to get into the conversation. “But Gohan’s ring answers questions when asked sometimes. And it follows commands, and Yamcha’s found him in Otherworld when he was dead.”

“Can we not talk about me being dead super casually?” Yamcha asked.

“You’ve got a ring too, Yamcha?” Goku asked, peeking around Bulma to look. “Neat!”

This was all starting to give Piccolo a headache. “I’m leaving,” he announced, more for Gohan’s benefit than out of actually caring whether anyone knew he was gone. He turned on his heel and started to lift off the ground. Fuck this. They could all stand around and study jewelry without him.

His cape snagged on something and he crashed back to the ground before he’d gotten very high. Piccolo turned over to glare up at a sheepish Goku, one hand still tangled in his cape. “Sorry,” Goku said as Piccolo pulled himself back to his feet. “I just--I was going to invite you to train with us.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s always better to train with others, ya know? More fun that way!”

Piccolo wanted to say something along the lines of “don’t slam people into the ground and then ask them to do something,” but he caught sight of Gohan’s hopeful face in the background and sighed. “Fine. I guess.” (He was not touched that Goku had asked, or that Gohan wanted him around. He _wasn’t_.)

Goku beamed at him. “Great! Gohan and I are gonna head home now, if you wanna come with us. I, uh.” He scratched the back of his head. “I need to see Chi-Chi.”

Bulma walked over to them. “You,” she declared, jabbing a finger into Goku’s chest, “are coming to Capsule Corp sometime soon. I need to study that ring of yours.”

“But you have Yamcha’s,” Goku said, confused.

“Yeah, but yours is _different_ from Yamcha’s.”

“I’m right here,” Yamcha complained.

“Okay.” Goku held his hands up in defeat. “I promise I’ll come by Capsule Corp. Sometime. Later. Probably.”

“Goku!”

“Okay Gohan time to go!” Goku declared, shooting Piccolo a look. Piccolo resisted the urge to snort. He knew exactly why Goku wanted to avoid Capsule Corp--if he didn’t see Bulma or Vegeta, then he couldn’t accidentally tell them who the mysterious future boy really was. Piccolo would give Goku credit--he knew himself well.

“See you later!” Goku chirped, taking to the sky. “Take good care of the baby, Bulma!”

Not well enough, apparently.

Gohan followed Goku, with Piccolo trailing behind. He managed to catch the faintest part of Yamcha and Bulma’s conversation, wherein Yamcha completely missed the point. “Obviously he’s saying we should stop beating around the bush and, you know, settle down, maybe?”

Yamcha’s giggle was drowned out by the murmurs from Gohan’s ring, and Piccolo had never been so glad for it.

~~~

“Mom?”

Chi-Chi dropped the remote for their ancient television, scrambling off the couch. Ever since Gohan had left four hours ago she had been glued to the TV, flipping between their two news channels to see if she could get any news of what was going on. They’d managed to watch the Saiyan invasion on television, and this was worse, so surely there’d be some sort of coverage so she could find out what was happening to her son, right?

Except no, there hadn’t been any coverage, and she’d been a steadily-growing mess of nerves and anxiety for four hours. But that was Gohan’s voice calling from outside, and so she raced for the front door, slamming it open and throwing herself at her son. “Oh, Gohan, you’re okay! What happened? Are you alright? Is--”

There was another pair of arms around her, around them both, and a split second before her instincts kicked in and she punched the owner of those arms in the face, she recognised who they belonged to. Chi-Chi’s head lifted and she was met with Goku’s soft smile. “Hi, Chi!” he said, hoisting the two of them into a bear hug. “I missed you!”

Tears slipped from her eyes and she worked an arm from around Gohan to wrap around her husband instead. “Y-you idiot,” she choked out. “What took you so long?”

“‘M sorry,” Goku said, sounding truly remorseful. His mouth was drawn, eyes downturned. “It wasn’t safe for you guys if I came home early. Please don’t cry.”

“Y-you can’t--you can’t stop me.” She buried her face between her husband’s chest and her son’s head and wailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally hate everything about this but I'm done looking at it here you go


	4. When All Seems Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trunks returns to his timeline, hoping his mother can help him figure out what's going on with his ring. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the gang tries to figure out how their lives work now that they have power rings thrown into the mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SO LONG HOLY CRAP WHY IS IT SO LONG

Trunks hopped out of the time machine’s cockpit, landing deftly on the balls of his feet. “I’m back,” he said.

His mother was there in an instant, gripping his hands and beaming up at him. “How did it go?” she asked. “Do you think you got there in time? Goku wasn't already sick, was he? Did you get to see--”

“Mom,” Trunks said, squirming under all the attention. “Everything's fine. Goku’s not sick yet, but I gave him his medicine so that should be fine. But, um.” He flushed. “You didn't tell me you were, um. So, uh. Yeah.”

Realization dawned on her face. “Oh, no. I tried to flirt with you, didn't I?”

“Only a little,” he tried to reassure her, but she sighed and shook her head.

“I figured I’d do something like that. At that point I was on the rocks with Yamcha again and...well, I’d flirt with just about anyone who took my fancy.” She winked up at him. “Guess I can't really regret it, though--you would never have been born otherwise, and then where would we be?”

Trunks shook his head. “Okay, Mom, sure.” He moved his hands away from hers. “Um, question. Back then, did Goku and Gohan have rings like mine?” He fished his out of his pocket and held it up. “Gohan--past Gohan, I mean--had a ring like this, only green. But I don’t remember him having one before. And Goku had one that looked just like mine.”

Bulma frowned, looking thoughtfully at Trunks’s ring. “No, I don't think they did. Or I don't remember them, at any rate. They might’ve had them and I just never noticed it. Why?”

Trunks shrugged. “I feel like they’re connected to this ring somehow. Or this ring’s connected to those ones. I'm not sure. But while I was there, my ring had some kind of...I don't know, reaction, I think, to Gohan’s? And then it glowed and it…” He swallowed. “It _talked_ to me.”

Bulma’s eyes widened. “ _Talked_ to you? How?”

“I-I don't know--in my head, I think? I don't think anyone else heard it.” He turned the ring over in his hand, studying the symbol engraved into it. Gohan’s had clearly looked like a stylized lantern of some kind, but his was a little more complex, more ornate. He wasn't sure what it all meant. He wished he’d had more time to ask Gohan about it before he left--hell, he wished he could’ve spent more time with Gohan in general--but as it was he felt he'd overstayed his welcome.

Maybe he'd be able to go back and help out, and he could see Gohan again then. He hoped so.

“What did it say?” Bulma asked. Her eyes shone with excitement; he could see the gears turning as she thought of possibilities. “Maybe it's got some kind of power in it to help fight the androids, or blueprints so I can build something to--”

“I don't think it's anything like that.” Trunks ran a thumb over the engraving. “All it said was ‘Trunks Briefs of Earth, you have the power to instill great hope.’ I don't really know what that means, and I didn't have much time to think about it before I came back.”

She frowned. “Oh. Great hope, huh?” Realization dawned in her eyes. “Wait, it called you by _name_?”

“Yeah, that was the weirdest part.” Trunks put it back in his pocket. He was hesitant to actually wear it, partly because wearing rings and wielding a sword at the same time was uncomfortable, but also because Goku said once his was on, he couldn’t get it off. If there was something strange going on with it, he didn’t want it to be permanently attached to his body. “I just--you’re _sure_ Gohan never had a green one?”

Bulma shrugged. “Not when he was a kid, at any rate. You spent more time with him than I did toward--” She cut herself off and ran a hand through her hair, not meeting his eyes. “Anyway, fork it over.” She held out her hand. “I’ll run some tests on it, see what I can figure out. In the meantime, we’ve got a time machine to recharge. Go grab the cables, kiddo--we have work to do.”

~~~

Chi-Chi didn’t stray far from Goku’s side the whole first night he was home, and he was pretty hesitant to leave her for long as well. He was at her back while she cooked dinner (an even bigger affair than usual, to celebrate his return), holding her around the shoulders as he listened to Gohan chatter about everything he’d missed while he was away. She laced her fingers through his under the dinner table, gave him pecks on the cheek every few minutes, welcomed every little display of affection.

Piccolo was a less welcome addition. When she’d found out he’d been _invited_ to her house (by her own husband, no less, without even asking her opinion first), she hadn’t exactly been welcoming. But Gohan was insistent that he stay, and she supposed he _had_ saved her son’s life (more than once, if Gohan’s stories of Namek were to be believed), so she relented. And he wasn’t such a bad house guest, when you got right down to it--or at the very least he wasn’t another mouth to feed. Chi-Chi could tolerate him, at any rate, which was more than she could say for herself a year ago. She wasn’t sure if that was indicative of her progress or his.

She had a vague idea of why Goku asked Piccolo to stay with them, and she wasn’t impressed when she found out she was right. “Absolutely not,” she said, arms folded, glaring Goku down. “You just got home! From space! You can’t just start back into training immediately--what about Gohan?” Her eyes flicked away, then back to Goku’s face, a little softer. “What about _me_?”

Goku rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “You could always train _with_ us, Chi.”

Chi-Chi considered it for all of five seconds before shooting the idea down. “No. _Somebody’s_ got to keep you people from training until you drop dead; it might as well be me.”

“Mom.” Gohan tugged her pants. “I want to train.”

She blinked down at him. “Excuse me?”

He blushed and looked down, scratching the side of his nose. “I mean, I really liked training with Yamcha with the rings while Dad was away. And you didn’t mind when I did that.”

“That was different,” she said dismissively. “I don’t want you getting hurt, Gohan.”

“I won’t,” he said confidently. “I’m really good at using the ring now, and Dad won’t let me get hurt.” He beamed up at Goku. “Right, Dad?”

Goku grinned back at Gohan and ruffled his hair. “Always!”

Chi-Chi smiled softly, ignoring the derisive snort from the corner Piccolo had taken up residence in. “Well...I suppose I’m stuck with your decision, then. But you need to keep your studies up, young man! I don’t want you slacking just because you think the world’s ending--I expect you to act like it’s going to go right on turning!”

The smile Gohan gave her almost made everything worth it.

~~~

“Okay, we’ll start simple.”

Gohan was suited up in his Green Lantern uniform, feet positioned in a boxer’s stance Yamcha had taught him. Goku was about ten feet away, hands in the pockets of the orange uniform he always wore. (Gohan had to wonder how many of those his father actually had. He always seemed to be wearing one. Maybe Piccolo made him a new one after his old one was shredded on Namek?) Piccolo sat next to the front door, meditating. Gohan saw he had one eye open and grinned. Pretending to meditate, then.

“So, Gohan.” Goku dropped into his favourite fighting stance. “Show me what you’ve learned!”

The words were scarcely out of Goku’s mouth before Gohan was rushing in, a fist heading right for Goku’s head. He fully expected Goku to dodge, and when he did he spun around, kicking at his stomach. A hand caught his foot, sending him flying. Gohan righted himself in midair just in time for Goku to come flying at him, and he instinctively curled into a ball, a sphere of green energy erupting around him.

Goku bounced off the impromptu force field with an undignified yelp, tumbling through the air for a moment before righting himself. “So that’s what it does!” he laughed. “After everything you told me, I was really hoping to see that ring of yours in action!”

Gohan raised his fist to the sky, force field disappearing. “Then get ready, Dad! I’ve been working hard on this!”

Bolts of green light flew from his ring towards Goku, who swooped low to dodge them and turned back to streak towards his son. He stopped suddenly with a yell when he was met with another construct, and suddenly he was wrestling a small dragon with wings and big eyes. Gohan kept his distance, eyes trained on the fight, when suddenly there was a sharp pain in his back and he cried out. The dragon disappeared and he shot forward, away from whatever just hit him. Glancing over his shoulder, he was more surprised than he should’ve been to see Piccolo chasing after him. “Always keep your surroundings in mind during a fight!” he bellowed, stretching his arm forward to grab Gohan’s ankle.

Gohan screamed as Piccolo threw him into Goku’s stomach and they both went tumbling to the ground. Piccolo floated just above them, arms folded, mouth quirked up into a triumphant smirk. “You idiots forgot about me, didn’t you?”

“Piccolo,” Goku moaned, rubbing his head where he’d cracked it off the ground. “That was just supposed to be a sparring match between me and Gohan!”

“Yeah,” Gohan added. Alright, so maybe he was pouting a little as he sat up. So sue him. “Besides, I thought you were meditating because you didn’t want in on our ‘stupid Saiyan brawl.’”

Piccolo rolled his eyes as he landed gently on the balls of his feet. “Please. When have you ever known me to see a fight and not get involved? Besides,” he continued, talking over Gohan’s protest, “you two need to remember that not everyone fights fair. One of these days you’re going to meet another opponent who’s not interested in posing and posturing and having a good fight. They’ll want a fight that they _win_ , not a ‘good fight.’”

The look Goku gave Piccolo didn’t hold a trace of malice, but something about it sent shivers down Gohan’s spine anyway. “Like you?”

Piccolo’s shoulders drew up around his ears. “Whatever,” he muttered, stomping towards one of the trees that lined the Son property. “When you two are ready for a _real_ match, let me know. I’ll be over here.”

Gohan looked up at his father. “I think you hurt his feelings.”

Goku shrugged, but he looked a little wilted. “I’ll talk to him later. Besides, he was being mean first.” He smiled down at Gohan. “I like your ring stuff! You can do some real neat stuff with that thing, huh?”

“Yeah!” Gohan scrambled upright, eager to show off. “Yamcha and I have been working on learning everything we can about Green Lantern stuff since he got back! Watch this!” Brows furrowed in concentration, Gohan held his ring in front of him and sent his dragon construct bursting forth again. It opened its mouth in a soundless cry before swooping around the two of them. Goku laughed and clapped, eyes fixed on its flight. Beaming with pride, Gohan directed it to land next to him. “I named him Icarus,” he said. Icarus preened at his side.

“He’s real lifelike,” Goku said, reaching out to pat Icarus on the head. He looked surprised when his hand made contact. “You’ve been real busy while I was away, huh?” He sounded distracted, distant.

“A little.” Gohan sat crosslegged on the ground, watching Goku awkwardly pat Icarus. “I spent a lot of time with Mom and Yamcha and Piccolo--and Dende, before he--” He swallowed a lump in his throat. He still couldn’t talk about Dende without getting emotional. It had been _months_. “Anyway, Yamcha and I practised with the rings a lot, and Kojass--it’s the guy I told you about, the one you met on Yardrat?” Goku nodded in understanding. He was sitting across from Gohan now, Icarus forgotten. Gohan dismissed the construct and it disappeared. “Kojass helped a lot with figuring things out. Yamcha has a lot of really good ideas! He’s good with ki, like _really_ good with ki. We’re trying to figure out how to combine ki energy with ring energy for some kind of super blast, like a new and improved Masenko!” He gestured wildly as he talked, then noticed the amused look on Goku’s face and suddenly got embarrassed about how much he was talking. “Um, anyway, yeah, we’ve been really busy here.”

“I wish I could’ve been here for more of it,” Goku laughed, pushing a hand through his hair. “Last couple of years have been pretty crazy, huh?”

Gohan nodded. It seemed like it should’ve been more than just two years ago since Raditz kidnapped him and his short life spiralled out of control. Heck, it seemed like it should’ve been longer since he got back from Namek. Everything seemed to happen all at once or not at all, and it was confusing.

“But hey!” The brightness was back in Goku’s voice and he clapped a hand on Gohan’s shoulder. “I’m back now, and we’re not getting separated like that ever again!” He smiled at Gohan, reassuring and cheerful. “I promise.”

Gohan smiled back. “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

Goku ruffled Gohan’s hair and stood, offering him a hand up. “Come on, let’s get back to training. I bet you have even more cool tricks to show me!”

Grinning, Gohan took his father’s hand. “You have no--”

_Son Goku of Earth._ When their hands touched, blue light burst forth from Goku’s ring, sending them reeling. Gohan landed on his rear with a _thump_ and Goku stumbled back, shielding his eyes. _What do you hope for?_

“This again?” Goku squinted at the ring. “I told ya, I don’t know!”

Gohan scrambled to his knees, but the light dissipated as quickly as it came. “What was that?” Chi-Chi’s voice came from the front door. She leaned outside, frowning in confusion. “Goku, what was that?”

Goku shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. It does that whenever it’s near Gohan’s ring. And it won’t come off.”

Chi-Chi leaned on the doorframe, eyebrow raised. “You tried answering it? Maybe that’d get it off.”

Gohan looked at the ring on his own finger. “Maybe I should ask Kojass if it knows anything about a blue ring. I mean...it looks like mine; maybe they’re related.”

“Worth a shot.” Chi-Chi nodded. “In the meantime, Goku, try coming up with an answer. What do you hope for?”

“But I don’t know!” Goku whined. Gohan slipped around the corner of the house to make the call in some semblance of privacy. “I don’t _hope_ for stuff, I _do_ stuff! This is hard.”

Gohan shook his head. His dad was such a kid sometimes.

He settled onto the grass and fired up the ring. “Son Gohan calling Kojass,” he said.

Nothing happened for a moment. “Kojass?” he asked. “Are you there?”

“Gohan?” Kojass sounded stressed, disoriented, possibly in pain. “Now is not a good time.”

He was on his feet in seconds. “Do you need help? I can--”

“No, child, you stay away! This is something you can’t--” It yelped, cutting itself off. Now Gohan could hear the faint sounds of battle--shouting, energy blasts firing, the dull _thwack_ of fist meeting face. “Everything’s under control,” Kojass said. It didn’t sound convinced. “We have half the Corps on it. I’ll call you back!” The connection severed.

Gohan dashed around the side of the house. “Kojass is in trouble and I’ve gotta go help--”

“Absolutely not.” Chi-Chi frowned down at him. “You’re not flying off into space. I heard the whole thing; it said it was under control. You are staying right here and waiting for it to call you back.”

“Hey, in the meantime, I had an idea.” Goku held his ring out towards Gohan. “Let’s touch rings again. I think I know what I hope for now.”

Gohan hesitated. All of his instincts were screaming at him to help Kojass, but he didn’t even know where it was, or how to find out where it was, or what it was up against, or how to get there. He’d just have to have faith and hope Kojass knew what it was doing.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself that of _course_ it knew what it was doing. It had been a Green Lantern for too long to _not_ know what it was doing.

Feeling a little better, he walked towards Goku. “Okay, here goes.” He raised his hand and the blue light burst forth again. They were prepared this time, and instead of being thrown backwards they just stumbled a little. _Son Goku of Earth. What do you hope for?_

Someday Gohan would figure out why that voice sounded so familiar.

“I hope for my friends to be happy!” Goku tried to smile while he said it, but he was squinting too hard for it to have much effect.

_Sincerity detected._

Instead of disappearing like it had done before, the blue light grew, wrapping around Goku and obscuring him from view. “Dad!” Gohan cried, but almost before the word finished leaving his mouth the light was gone, leaving a confused and blinking Goku in its place.

“That was weird,” Goku commented, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I feel all tingly.”

Chi-Chi’s hand had flown to her heart when Goku disappeared, and now it covered her mouth in shock. “Goku, your clothes--!”

Goku looked down at himself and blinked. “Oh. When did that happen?”

Gohan’s eyes widened. Goku was still wearing his old gi, but instead of Turtle School orange it was a soft blue. It also seemed...clingier than usual, probably made from the same kind of material as Gohan’s uniform. And for some reason his boots were gone.

“Dad, you’re like me!” Goku looked confusedly at Gohan, eyebrows drawn together. Gohan beamed at him. “You’re a Lantern like me! Except you’re blue, not green. But you can be a Blue Lantern!” His fists were clenched in front of his chest in excitement. “This is so cool! Now you and me and Yamcha can all be Lanterns together! I wonder if there’s a Blue Lantern Corps? I can show you how to make constructs! We can--”

Goku pulled the ring off and his clothes faded back to his orange gi. “Oh,” he said. “It came off.”

~~~

There was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Gohan said, scrambling off the floor where he had study materials spread around him. It had been three weeks since Goku got his ring to cooperate, and in that time they’d managed to find a decent training schedule. Mornings were for training, then after lunch Goku and Piccolo sparred while Gohan studied and read. Then he’d join them to teach Goku how to use his ring for another hour before dinner, and after dinner was free time until bed. It was an exhausting schedule, but Gohan liked it--there was just the right amount of everything and he was always tired enough to sleep soundly when he went to bed.

He still hadn’t heard back from Kojass, though, and he was starting to get worried.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Yamcha on the other side, a bag over one shoulder and Puar floating next to him. “Hi, Uncle Yamcha!” He bounded forward to give him a hug.

“Heya, squirt.” Yamcha grabbed him under the arms and swung him up for a hug. “Your parents home?”

He frowned, confused. “Yeah, Dad and Piccolo are outside training. Didn’t you see them?”

Yamcha set him down, not looking him in the eyes. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to your mom first. Goku would just say yes without asking her and I don’t want to get him in trouble by accident.”

Gohan scratched his arm. “Okay then.” He turned and bounded up the stairs. “Mom! Yamcha and Puar are here!”

Chi-Chi was in the bedroom she and Goku shared, folding laundry. She smiled when Gohan came into the room. “Are they? That’s nice. Where are they, downstairs?”

“Hi,” Yamcha said, sticking his head into the room. Puar followed, waving. “Sorry to intrude; we just felt weird standing around in the living room by ourselves.”

To Gohan’s surprise, Chi-Chi giggled. “Oh, don’t worry about it. You spend so much time here you’re practically family anyway.”

Yamcha blushed and looked down. “Um. Thanks.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Then Puar cleared her throat. “Chi-Chi, we had a problem.”

“Right!” Yamcha’s head shot up and his stance became formal. “We were wondering if we could maybe crash on your couch for a little while? Not long, just a few days, a week at most. I got in a fight with Bulma, see, and--”

Chi-Chi waved him off. “Don’t worry; I understand.” Gohan hopped up on the bed next to her and started matching up socks, already bored with the conversation. “Thank you, Gohan. Yamcha, Puar, you two are always welcome here. I’ll talk to Goku, of course, but I can’t see him having a problem with it.” She laughed. “You’re one of his closest friends, you know; he talks about you all the time.”

Yamcha’s entire body relaxed. “Thanks, Chi-Chi. We appreciate it.”

“Are you gonna train with us again?” Gohan asked. He set aside his favourite polka-dot socks and looked hopefully up at Yamcha. “We got Dad’s ring working, so he can train in ring stuff with us too now!”

Yamcha fingered his own ring. “Well, I mean. Yeah, sure. I don’t know how much of a challenge I’ll be for you guys, though.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Chi-Chi admonished, standing and gathering folded shirts. “You’re the Bandit Lord of Diablo Desert, aren’t you?”

Gohan felt the reference flying over his head, but Chi-Chi winked at Yamcha and he laughed, drawing himself up to his full height and flexing one arm. “Darn right! And us lords never lose!” He hesitated. “Except to aliens. But they don’t count.”

Gohan folded his arms. “I’m right here.”

~~~

“Has anyone seen Gohan?”

Yamcha looked up from the game of checkers he was losing against Puar. Chi-Chi stood at the foot of the stairs, hands clutched at her apron, brows twisted up in worry. “He’s not in his room, and I called for him outside but he hasn’t answered.”

Goku shrugged. “He’s probably gone for a walk. It’s free time, Chi; he can do what he wants.”

“If he’s leaving the house I’d like to know where he is,” she shot back. “I know he’s stronger than I think and he can take care of himself out there, but I don’t want him leaving without telling anyone. What if he gets lost?”

“Found him,” Yamcha piped up. The others looked at him and he tapped his temple with a finger. “Ki sense.” He looked at Goku and Piccolo. “Did...did you guys forget you could do that?”

“No,” Piccolo said, but he didn’t sound very convincing.

“He’s got his ki suppressed. Not well, but it’s pretty low.” Goku frowned. “I don’t think he wants anyone to bother him.”

Yamcha stood. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Goku raised his fingers to his forehead. “I can get there faster,” he suggested.

Yamcha shook his head. “If I’m right--and I think I am--he wants to be left alone, but that’s not what he needs. I’ll go talk to him.” He looked at Goku and Chi-Chi. “If that’s okay with you guys.”

Chi-Chi waved him off. “Bring him back safe.”

As Yamcha flew, he wondered if everything was okay. Gohan wasn’t solitary by nature, not like Piccolo or Tien; he hardly ever sought out alone time. In fact, he was almost the opposite, preferring to seek out the company of others whenever he could. Wandering off by himself was completely unlike him.

And it was starting to get dark. No wonder Chi-Chi was so worried.

Goku was right: Gohan’s ki was suppressed, but not to the point that they couldn’t find him. Yamcha came across him pretty easily--he was only a few kilometers from the house, sitting at the edge of a river and watching it run. He wondered if he’d only partially suppressed his ki on purpose, so the others could find him in an emergency. It wasn’t like Gohan didn’t know how to do it; he’d had to extensively on Namek, according to Krillin.

Yamcha approached Gohan quietly. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi, Uncle Yamcha.” Of course Gohan knew he was there. It wasn’t like he was bothering to suppress his own ki, and he although he was being quiet he wasn’t exactly being stealthy. Gohan’s tone bothered him, though--it was too quiet, too dull, not sparkling and bright like usual.

“Your mom’s worried about you,” Yamcha said, settling into the grass next to him. Gohan didn’t look at him, instead staring sightlessly at the way the river ran over the rocks. “Everything okay?”

Gohan shrugged. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about Kojass, that’s all. It still hasn’t called me back, and it won’t answer when I try to contact it.”

“Hm.” Yamcha sat crosslegged and rested his hands on his ankles. “Now, see, I think you’re lying to me.”

That startled Gohan out of his reverie. His head snapped around to look up at Yamcha. “What? No, Kojass--”

“Oh, I believe you about Kojass.” Yamcha shrugged. “That’s not the issue. I just think you’re not telling me the whole story. What else is bothering you?”

He watched a wall crumble in Gohan’s eyes and wondered if anyone had ever asked him that before.

“It’s just,” Gohan started. He stopped, thought, shook his head, started over. “I don’t really know. Like, there’s something wrong, but I don’t know what it is. I’m sad, but I don’t know why. Is that normal?”

There was a pause, and Yamcha realised Gohan actually wanted him to answer. “Well, lots of people feel that way.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s ‘normal’ or not, but I know I feel like that sometimes too. So does Krillin. Does that help?”

Gohan nodded. “A little, I guess.” He plucked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers absently. “It’s not just that, either. I--I’ve got these powers, right? Not just the Green Lantern ones, everything else too. And everyone expects me to be really good at them, you know? Like, right away. And I feel like if I mess up, if I drop my guard and Piccolo hits me from behind, or Dad blocks my punch, or I miss with the Masenko and take out a tree by accident, I feel like everyone’s disappointed in me. I’m supposed to be so good at everything on my first try, and if I’m not then I’m a failure.”

“That’s not true,” Yamcha said automatically. “I don’t think that, and I know your dad doesn’t either. We just--” He sighed and ran a hand through his bowl cut. “You’re so good at stuff sometimes, we forget you’re still just a kid. A prodigy, sure, but a kid all the same. And because we forget that, we treat you like you’ve had the same kind of training that we did.”

“But I didn’t.”

Yamcha laughed, and it was a hollow, bitter sound. “Honestly? You may as well have. I trained for _years_ to get to where you are now. You’re just that good, kiddo.” He reached out and ruffled Gohan’s hair. “If you want, I’ll talk to your dad. Knowing him, he probably doesn’t know that’s how you feel, and he wouldn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you.”

“No,” Gohan said. “I’ll talk to him.”

Yamcha raised an eyebrow. He doubted Gohan would actually do it. But when it came down to it, it was Gohan’s decision, not his. “Alright, suit yourself. But if you ever want to talk, hit me up, okay? Goku’s great, and Piccolo’s...well, he’s...he’s not a total jerk a hundred percent of the time, anyway. But neither of them have ever been very good in the emotional department, you know?”

Gohan nodded. “Okay.” He smiled at him for the first time since Yamcha sat down. “Thanks, Yamcha.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Yamcha gave him a pat on the shoulder. “We all want to see you happy, you know? Come on, we should get back.” He stood, offering Gohan a hand up. “Your mom was starting to get worried about you.”

“Mom worries too much,” Gohan muttered, but he took Yamcha’s hand and followed him home.

~~~

“Hey, Piccolo, want to help me train?”

Piccolo cracked an eye open. He’d been _trying_ to meditate under one of the trees at the edge of the Son property, but now Gohan stood before him, smiling expectantly at him. “I’m busy.”

Gohan folded his arms. “You don’t _look_ busy.”

“Well, I am.” He shut his eye again. Meditation was training too, and besides that it helped him block out the white noise from Gohan’s ring. Piccolo had never told anyone about it--he didn’t want to deal with how people would react to it. Chi-Chi would probably use it as an excuse to keep him away from Gohan, Bulma would want to study it, Goku would...probably not notice, Yamcha would worry because that was all he ever seemed to _do_.

“Come on, you get to throw stuff at me, it’ll be fun.” When Piccolo continued ignoring him, Gohan sighed. Piccolo could hear him scuffing a toe into the dirt. “Dad’s gone to get dinner and Yamcha’s back at Capsule Corp to make up with Bulma finally. And Mom won’t train with me. Please, Piccolo? I want to practise a new move.”

He was playing Piccolo like a fiddle and he _knew_ it and Piccolo rose to his feet, glaring down at Gohan. “Fine. But only because I want to see this supposed ‘new move’ of yours.”

His heart didn’t lift when Gohan smiled at him. Or at least he refused to believe it did. He was a heartless bastard, as he was so fond of reminding everyone--he didn’t have a heart _to_ lift.

“Alright, what am I throwing?”

Gohan pointed. Next to the house was a pile of rocks, all painted different colours. Piccolo remembered seeing Gohan painting rocks one evening; he supposed they were for this. “Throw those at me as hard as you can!”

Piccolo glared. “If I throw one of those at you as hard as I can and actually hit you, you’ll die.”

He shrugged. “Then I have to dodge it.” He fired up his ring, coating himself in a protective aura. Piccolo winced as the ring sang out. “Besides, having this up makes it harder to actually hurt me. Come on, Piccolo, you’re the one always saying I need to learn how to dodge better! It’ll be like dodgeball! But with rocks.”

“I don’t know what dodgeball is.” He trudged over to the rocks, picking one up to examine it. It was orange. “Do the colours mean anything?”

“Not really.” Gohan shrugged. “I found some really cool rocks at the river and wanted to paint them. There’s more inside that look like animals, but I didn’t want to throw those.”

Piccolo tested the weight of the rock he was holding, then without warning whipped it at Gohan. Gohan shrieked and spun to the side. He leapt into the air, spinning and twisting against the sudden barrage of rocks coming from Piccolo. A blue one clipped his leg, but he didn’t seem to notice. Piccolo smirked. The kid was smart, he’d give him that--with a protective aura up like that, he could practise dodging without fear of actually getting hurt. It didn’t seem to hurt his form any, though, like Piccolo thought it might. For some, the knowledge that you couldn’t actually get hurt made people sloppy, lazy, made them make mistakes. Gohan, however, had been trained better than that, and Piccolo allowed himself a small, prideful smile even as he hefted a yellow rock and chucked it at his protege.

He accidentally beaned him right in the elbow, but instead of harmlessly bouncing off like it had on his leg, this one hit home. Gohan screamed in pain and clutched his elbow, and Piccolo immediately dropped the rock he’d grabbed to throw next and rushed up to him. “What the hell was that?” he demanded, because he couldn’t ask “are you alright?”

“I-I don’t know.” Gohan was on the verge of tears, but struggled valiantly against them. He peeled off his glove and rolled the sleeve of his uniform up over his elbow. A huge purple bruise was forming before their eyes. “Oww…”

Piccolo opened his mouth to tell him not to be such a baby, it was just a bruise, it wasn’t like he’d broken anything--there wasn’t even any blood. But at that moment Chi-Chi burst out of the house, wielding a frying pan. “Baby!” she shouted. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m okay, Mom,” he called down. He floated over to Chi-Chi so she could fuss over his elbow, and Piccolo landed to look at the rocks he’d thrown. The yellow one that had hit Gohan had bounced back towards the pile, and he picked it up, examining it. He hadn’t done anything differently with this rock than with the other ones to make it actually strike Gohan. The only difference between it and the other rocks was that it was painted yellow.

But...it wouldn’t be because it was _yellow_. That would be _stupid_.

Piccolo dropped the rock and wandered over to Gohan and Chi-Chi. She’d swapped the frying pan out for some sort of ointment, which she was applying to Gohan’s bruise. It stank to the high heavens, but Gohan didn’t look like he was about to cry anymore, so that was...something. Gohan looked up at him, but said nothing. Chi-Chi pretended he wasn’t there, like usual.

He cleared his throat. “You alright?”

Gohan gave a watery smile and nodded.

A little of the tension drained from Piccolo’s shoulders. “Good.” It came out softer than he meant for it to, and he pretended not to notice Chi-Chi’s glance up at him. “Training’s over. Go read your books or something.”

As he walked away, he thought he heard Gohan’s ring clearly say “compassion,” but dismissed it and kept going.

~~~

Bulma turned the ring over in her hands fruitlessly before handing it back to Goku. “Well, it’s built the same as Gohan and Yamcha’s,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Completely seamless--I can’t crack it open without breaking it forever.” She tugged at the edges of her gloves, frustrated. “One of these days, I’m going to meet the guys who made these things and yell at them for making technology you can’t take apart. What’s even the _point_ , you know? What if something goes wrong internally? How’re you supposed to fix that?”

Goku slid the ring on again. “Maybe it’s not technology. Maybe it’s magic, like the Dragon Balls.”

She snorted and rubbed her eyes. “I’m Bulma fucking Briefs, Goku; I know tech when I see it. That thing--” she pointed at Goku’s ring-- “is technology. And technology is my bitch.” She frowned. “Speaking of, how do you charge it? Gohan’s got a lantern battery thing, and Yamcha doesn’t so he has to use Gohan’s. How do you charge yours?”

He shrugged. “I don’t. I mean, I haven’t needed to so far.” Goku tilted his head, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Then again, I haven’t used it much since I got it. I made a construct of my old power pole the other day in a fight by accident. That was pretty cool. But other than that I haven’t done a lot with it.”

Bulma sighed, propping her chin on her hand. “Of course. Only you would be handed an artefact of infinite power and refuse to use it.”

“Hey, I’m not _refusing_ to use it.” He looked offended. “I just don’t really understand how. Gohan was trying to show me how to make stuff with it, but I don’t think my ring’s made for that because I’m not very good at it.”

She smiled wryly at him. “You know, there’s always the possibility that you’re just shit at making constructs.”

Goku stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re mean.”

Bulma shrugged and stifled a yawn. “Bite me. It’s a genuine possibility.”

He peered at her face. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

She waved him off. “I’m fine. I was up all night trying to figure that thing out.” She pointed at Goku’s ring. “Since _you_ refuse to come around Capsule Corp more than you have to, and Yamcha and I are on the rocks again, I decided to get as much research out of this visit as I could.” Bulma smiled apologetically at him. “Sorry we haven’t gotten much of a chance to just hang out this time.”

Goku laughed. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m just glad you’re not sick or something.” A weird look came over his face. “How’s Vegeta?”

Bulma snorted. “Like I care? Probably working himself to death in the gravity chamber again. It’s been what, like, nine months? He’s already nearly killed himself four times. _Four times,_ Goku. Next time I might just let him die and bring him back with the Dragon Balls like...a week later. That’d teach him. At least he’s nice to look at, if nothing else.”

“I don’t think that’d work.”

“Nah, you’re right.” She scowled. “Probably all it’d do is just piss him off more. And then he’d throw himself into his training even _harder_.”

“I meant the Dragon Ball thing. He died on Namek; the Dragon Balls can’t bring him back again.”

She hesitated. “Oh. He...died? I didn’t know that.”

Goku shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t think he likes talking about it.”

“Well no _shit_. I mean, do _you_ like talking about the year you spent dead?”

“I don’t _mind_ it. I learned some great stuff while I was dead!”

Bulma buried her face in a hand and laughed. “Of course you did. Why am I not surprised.”

Goku nudged her shoulder. “I think you should give Vegeta another chance. You never know--maybe he’s actually a good guy under all that.”

She patted his hand. “Goku. Sweetie. Honeybunch. Friend of mine. Even _you_ can’t be so naive as to think Vegeta is actually a nice person.”

“I never said nice person.” He winked. “I said good guy.”

Bulma laughed longer and louder than she had in a very long time.

~~~

“Chi-Chi!”

Chi-Chi looked up from her laundry. Puar zipped over to her, bouncing around her head in a panic. “Thank Kami you’re here! I haven’t been able to find anyone else and I don’t know what to do!”

“Puar, calm down.” Chi-Chi untied her apron and dropped into a fighter’s stance, looking around. The boys were all off beating each other up on some cliff or other--if there was a problem, it was up to her to deal with it. “What happened? Where’s Yamcha?”

“That’s the problem!” Fat tears rolled down Puar’s cheeks, soaking into her fur and dripping off her whiskers. “Yamcha’s gone!”

Chi-Chi’s world stopped. “What?” No. Not Yamcha. He couldn’t be--why not someone who _deserved_ to die, like that Vegeta creep?

“I can’t find him anywhere!” Puar wailed. “He went to Capsule Corp to talk things over with Bulma--they got in another fight, see, and--”

“Wait, hold on.” Time flowed normally again. “When you say Yamcha’s ‘gone,’ you mean--”

“I mean missing! Gone! Elsewhere! I don’t know where he went!” She was full-on sobbing now. She wiped her eyes, but it didn’t help. “He went to talk to Bulma and then he--he didn’t come back and--I can’t get ahold of anyone at Capsule Corp and--he’s missing and I can’t _find him_!”

“Alright, okay.” Chi-Chi scooped Puar up, cradling her like she used to carry Gohan when he was a baby. “Puar, we’re going to find Yamcha. It’s okay. But first you need to calm down. Can you do that? Breathe, come on now. That’s a good kitty. Alright. Are you better?”

Still sniffling, Puar nodded. “A little. Thanks.”

“Okay.” She did her best to smile. She had to be strong--for Puar, for Yamcha--even though Puar’s worry was contagious. “First thing’s first--let’s go inside and call Capsule Corp. Maybe we can at least leave Bulma a message.”

As it turned out, Bulma had no idea where he was either, though she was significantly less worried about him than Puar. “He’s probably fine,” she said dismissively. “Every time we have a fight he storms out. He always comes back.” She didn’t sound very sure, and Chi-Chi thought it sounded like she’d been crying. But she didn’t push the subject.

“Alright, so Bulma’s out.” Chi-Chi folded her arms, frowning. “Bulma said Yamcha does this a lot. Where does he usually go?”

Puar shook her head. “Here, lately. That’s why I came here first. But if he’s not here, then I don’t know. He probably went to see Tien and Chiaotzu, and they bounce around so much that the only ones who can ever find them are Yamcha and Piccolo.”

“And of course Piccolo’s off training Kami knows where,” Chi-Chi muttered bitterly. Goku could probably find Yamcha easily as well, but he was with Piccolo in Kami-knew-where. “Where else? Let’s say he doesn’t want to see people, which is why he didn’t come here. Where would he go if he wanted to be alone?”

Puar scratched behind her ear, thinking. Then she put a paw to her face. “Of course! The desert! He always goes back to Kung-Pao Rock if he’s feeling blue and doesn’t want to see anyone!”

Chi-Chi stood and headed for the door. “Fine then. To the desert it is.”

~~~

Chi-Chi wondered if she should have left a note.

To be fair, she hadn’t thought the trip to Diablo Desert would take so long. It was right at the base of Mt. Paozu, only a couple of hours away. Puar had originally suggested that she turn into a flying carpet, but with the thick forest that made up a good part of their journey Chi-Chi declined. It would be too hard to steer between the trees. Maybe once they’d cleared the forest she’d take her up on her offer, though. Her feet were getting tired and they were only two thirds of the way there. And they still had to get _back_.

Puar paused at the base of a tree and pricked her ears up. “There it is again. You hear that?”

Chi-Chi tilted her head, listening. All she heard was the gentle swish of leaves. “No. Are you sure you’re hearing something?”

“Cat ears are among the most sensitive in the animal kingdom,” Puar sniffed. “If I say something’s making noise, then it’s making noise.”

“It’s probably just a rabbit or something.” Chi-Chi started walking again. “Either that or a dinosaur out hunting.”

Puar immediately clung to Chi-Chi’s shoulder. “D-don’t even joke about that! What do we do if a dinosaur shows up?”

“I don’t know. Run. Fight. Hide. Those’re about our only options.”

“In any case, it didn’t sound like a dinosaur. I think it was something flying through the air. Something small, like a bird.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about. Why are you so on edge about it?”

Puar sighed. “I guess I’m just really worried about Yamcha. He gets like this sometimes, you know? And he doesn’t want anyone else to know. He wants to be the pillar of strength for the others, but he doesn’t have anyone to be that for him in return, so he burns himself out emotionally and goes off somewhere by himself to recharge.”

Chi-Chi glanced at her companion. “What about you? Aren’t you there to be his emotional support? You practically raised him, right?”

She shook her head. “I don’t...I think he needs more than I can give him.” She smiled crookedly at Chi-Chi. “It’s hard watching your baby leave the nest, huh?”

“I wouldn’t know. Mine’s still at home.”

Puar looked ahead. “So’s mine.” She stopped, cocked her ears again. “There it is _again_! Do you hear that?”

Chi-Chi paused. She actually _did_ hear something this time: a quiet whistling, like something whipping through the air. She opened her mouth to tell Puar that yes, she did hear it this time, but a voice reverberating in the air cut her off.

_Son Chi-Chi of Earth._ It was female and lilting and all around her, a part of her, and she shivered. A ring zipped into view, hovering in front of her. _Follow your heart, Queen of the Star Sapphires._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DIABOLICAL LAUGHTER*  
> (Don't worry everything's under control)


	5. Love Conquers All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi and Puar try to help Yamcha through some things. Unfortunately, an alien army has set their sights on Chi-Chi to be their new queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) ahahaha I have weird ships
> 
> 2) The name scheme for this fic is supposed to be lines from the Blue Lantern oath, but this one is from the Star Sapphire oath, and anyone who has a problem with that can meet me in the fucking pit.

Chi-Chi blinked in the face of the brilliant light the ring in front of her gave off. With the blinding light, it was hard to figure out what it looked like--was it pink or purple? She couldn’t tell.

“Chi-Chi it’s talking to you,” Puar stage whispered.

“I noticed” was all Chi-Chi could say.

The ring moved closer and Chi-Chi’s instincts kicked in. She grabbed the ring, whirled, and threw the ring as hard as she could. It embedded itself in a tree trunk and stopped glowing.

For a moment, nothing happened. Nothing moved, nothing made sound. Chi-Chi stood stock still in a defensive position. Puar had her front paws over her face, eyes wide, staring at where they’d last seen the ring.

Then Chi-Chi spun on her heel, grabbed Puar, and dashed off down the mountainside as fast as she could.

She had no idea what the hell that was all about and frankly she didn’t want to know.

~~~

The patch of forest they were fighting in was nearly unrecognisable from when they’d started their training that morning. At least six trees had been knocked down, there were large patches of burnt ground, a mountain lion that had happened upon them halfway through lay dead to the side of the clearing. Goku planned to take it back to the house and skin it for meat and clothes.

But none of it compared to the giant swath of destruction caused when Goku crashed backwards through tree after tree after tree, finally skidding to a stop with a groan. Piccolo folded his arms and peered through the foliage, impressed. Beside him, Gohan’s hands flew to cover his mouth, astonished and terrified in the face of what he’d just done.

“Nice hit,” Piccolo commented.

It seemed to shake Gohan out of whatever shocked state he’d fallen into, because he dashed forward through the trees. “Dad! Dad! Are you okay? Dad!”

Piccolo shook his head and took his time following. He wasn’t worried about Goku--on the contrary, he hoped the boy had actually done some damage to him.

There was a disoriented groan from Goku’s general direction. He pushed himself upright, blinking blearily at his surroundings before his gaze settled on Gohan. “What happened?” he asked.

“Dad, I'm so so sorry,” Gohan said, wringing his hands and looking up at Goku worriedly. “I didn't mean to.”

“That's okay,” Goku said distractedly. He looked around, then suddenly seemed to remember what had happened. He turned to beam down at Gohan. “Wow, kiddo, you really did a number on me!”

Piccolo scoffed. “There, you see? He's fine. Don't cry.”

Gohan was on the verge of tears next to him. “I didn't mean to--”

“But you did,” Piccolo interrupted. “And you're going to need to learn to control that power of yours better if you want to keep this kind of thing from happening by accident again.” Gohan nodded, dejected, and Piccolo sighed. “You have always had this sort of problem. You only ever seem to unleash your full power when your emotions get the better of you.”

“So,” Goku interrupted, picking himself up and dusting off his pants. “We've gotta find a way to make it so you only use that much power when you really want to. Sound good?”

Gohan nodded again, and Piccolo frowned. He was being unusually quiet. “What?” he asked.

“It's just,” Gohan said slowly, “I don't want to hurt anyone that doesn't deserve it.”

Personally, Piccolo felt Goku deserved plenty of hurt, but he had enough tact to not say so.

“That’s why we're gonna train you lots!” Goku explained. “So you only use your powers when _you_ mean to, not by accident.”

“Okay.” Gohan didn’t seem convinced, chewing his lip and not making eye contact.

“I'm starving!” Goku declared. “Let's go see if lunch is ready!”

~~~

Kung Pao Rock was a tall, strange-looking structure. According to Puar, the only way in was through a hole near the top, which was great for keeping out sand and unwanted guests but made it a pain to get in and out of. She offered to fly Chi-Chi up, but Chi-Chi found a few well-hidden footholds and scrabbled her way up the side. “I'm not as helpless as people seem to think,” she grumbled. “I'm a _warrior_ princess, dammit.”

As she slowly descended the ladder into the former Bandit hideout, Chi-Chi did her best to keep her eyes and ears open. There was no guarantee Yamcha was even there, and even if he was he may not have cleared out any beasties that had taken up residence in his absence. It all seemed very quiet, but with little natural light and even less artificial light, it was hard to see.

Puar’s ears pricked up. “Do you hear that?”

Chi-Chi groaned. “Not this again. Don't tell me that ring is back.”

“No, listen.”

When Chi-Chi was safely at the bottom of the ladder, she could hear it, too: someone was crying.

She carefully navigated her way through the cramped, dusty room that looked like it was once a kitchen. The noise was coming from the next room over, and she headed towards it, doing her best to be quiet. If it was who she thought it was, she didn't want to startle him.

Sure enough, when she looked into the next room, there was Yamcha, knees curled to his chest, sobbing for everything he was worth. Puar immediately zipped across the room to his side. “Yamcha, what happened? Are you okay? We’ve been worried sick about you!”

“P-Puar?” Yamcha looked up at her, revealing his tear-stained face. “What--” He cut himself off when Chi-Chi knelt in front of him. “Chi-Chi? You’re--what--why--”

“That’s what we wanted to ask you,” Chi-Chi said gently. Yamcha was hiccuped and wiped his face. Her heart went out to him. No matter how many times he and Bulma broke up, she’d never seen him this bad, not even with the increasing amount of problems the two of them had been having over the last year. “Are you alright? Puar was beside herself when you disappeared.”

Yamcha turned away. “I just want to be alone for a while.”

“No.” Puar attached herself to Yamcha’s side. “I know you. You think you want to be alone, but if you sit here by yourself you’ll just spiral deeper into despair, and _I refuse to let that happen_.” Yamcha said nothing. “Yamcha, _please_.”

“You don’t have to tell us what happened if you don’t want to,” Chi-Chi added, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on Yamcha’s arm. “Besides, I think I can guess anyway. Was it Bulma?” At the name, Yamcha flinched. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Chi-Chi shifted into a more comfortable position. “Yamcha, it’s okay, we can fix this, just come back with--”

“I can’t,” his voice cracked, “I can’t fix it and this time I don’t want to.”

“Yes you do. You wouldn’t be this upset if you didn’t want to fix things.”

“But I _can’t_.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “It’s… something happened,” he explained, “something big. But she hasn’t told anyone and it’s her right not to, and even though I’m just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m devastated,” he said, and his voice was choked with tears and she knew he was seconds away from crying again, “I want to respect her privacy b-but...I…” And the dam broke and the next thing Chi-Chi knew she had both arms around him and she was holding him while he cried.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, rubbing a hand in circles over his upper back. “We won’t make you talk about it.” Yamcha clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder. “You’ll be alright. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ll be alright. You always are.”

She wasn’t sure how long the three of them stayed that way, with Chi-Chi and Puar offering words of comfort while Yamcha cried until he was spent. His breathing slowed, he took a few breaths, but he didn’t make to move away.

“Yamcha?” He didn’t answer her. “Yamcha, are you ready to go home?” He shook his head. “Well, you’re not staying here.” He shook his head again. “No, you’re not. Not by yourself. You and Puar can come home with me.”

He sniffled and pulled away. “But I--”

“I want to know where you are,” she said gently. “I want to make sure you’re alright. You come with me, we’ll get you home, fed, you can sleep at our place for as long as you like. You’re not staying here in the desert by yourself.”

“You won’t take care of yourself when you’re like this,” Puar added. “Yamcha, please, listen to Chi-Chi. Let us help you.”

Yamcha took a deep, shaky breath before nodding. “Okay.”

Chi-Chi stood and offered Yamcha a hand up. “Come on, then. The boys’ll be worried.”

He took her hand almost shyly, a tentative smile starting to grow on his face as she pulled him to his feet. When he stood, he was just a little too close, and despite herself she let them stay that way for a moment before stepping back and letting go of his hand. Chi-Chi clasped her hands in front of herself and smiled up at him. “There. Let’s go, then--”

_Son Chi-Chi of Earth._ She whirled as the ring from before zipped through a window towards her. _Follow your heart, Queen of--_

She snatched it out of the air again. “Damn thing won’t leave me alone,” she griped. “I already threw you through a tree once; what do you want?”

“What is that?”

Chi-Chi turned back to Yamcha to answer his question and stopped stock still, shocked. She’d known he was upset, but now it was _palpable_ , his hurt coming off him in waves, and she took an involuntary step back. But there was something else mixed in with the hurt, and it took her a moment to figure out that it was love and relief. She swallowed. What was this?

“Chi-Chi?”

She shook herself, suddenly realising that she’d been staring at Yamcha without speaking for a whole minute. What was _wrong_ with her today? “It’s nothing,” she said, hastily shoving the ring into a pocket. “Let’s get you home.”

~~~

When Goku walked into the house, normally he made a beeline for the kitchen to see if Chi-Chi was there and if there was anything to eat. But when he walked in and saw Yamcha and Puar on the couch, he immediately headed for him. “Hi, Yamcha!” he said cheerfully. “What’re you doing here today?”

He smiled back at Goku, but it was weak and forced. “Hey, Goku.”

“What’s up? You look depressed.” Goku folded his arms. “Need anyone beaten up?”

Yamcha laughed and Goku relaxed a little. Maybe he wasn’t actually as sad as he looked. “If I need someone beaten up, I’ll do it myself.”

Behind Goku, Piccolo snorted as he wandered towards the corner he’d taken over for meditation purposes. “Sure you will.”

Instead of getting defensive, Yamcha winced and sank further into the couch. “Hey, Yamcha, don’t be sad.” Goku flopped on the couch next to him. “If you’re here now, that means Chi-Chi’s gonna make lunch for you! And nobody cooks better than Chi-Chi, so you know you’re in for a good meal!”

Yamcha shook his head, but his shoulders moved in a silent laugh. “Alright then. Thanks.”

At that moment, Gohan stuck his head into the room. “Mom says lunch is ready.” He noticed Yamcha on the couch. “Hi, Uncle Yamcha! Hi Puar!” He bounded over for a hug. “When did you get here?”

“He got here around an hour ago.” Chi-Chi came into the room behind Gohan. “He’ll be staying with us for a while.” Her jaw was set and her stance solid, eyes stubborn and fierce, daring anyone to contradict or argue with her. Goku wasn’t sure why anyone would. They all loved Yamcha! Except Piccolo, maybe, but it wasn’t his house.

So he beamed at Yamcha and said “Great! We’ve missed having you around!” and laughed when Yamcha blushed.

~~~

“--calling Son Gohan. Gohan, are you there?”

Gohan was instantly awake, fumbling for the ring on his bedside table. “Kojass!”

“Hello, child.” Its voice was cracked, tired, an edge of pain to it. “Sorry to make you wait.”

“Are you okay? What happened?” Gohan stuck the ring on and sat up fully in bed, legs crossed, adrenaline from the shock of the sudden awakening running through him.

“I’m fine, or I will be. How long has it been since we last talked?”

Gohan scratched his head. “I don’t know. About a year? I tried calling you again before, but you never answered.”

“An Earth year? That long?” Kojass sighed. “I’m so sorry, Gohan. I didn’t mean to leave you like that, but it was...unavoidable.”

“Kojass, what happened? I called and you were in...a fight or something? And then you didn’t call me back like you said you would...I’ve been worried.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was...unconscious.”

Gohan paused. “You were unconscious?”

“For the equivalent of most of an Earth year, yes. And then once I woke up, I had to go through physical therapy and rehabilitation, and...well, let’s just say I’ve had my hands full.” It chuckled, but its laugh turned into a cough halfway through. “Oh, it still hurts to laugh.”

“What happened?”

“The short version is that we were a little...short-sighted, and something was able to take advantage of that.”

“And the long version?”

“We weren’t able to get a lot of data on it before it--” It cut itself off. “Gohan, it harnessed the yellow power.”

Gohan waited, but Kojass didn’t elaborate. “I don’t know what that means.”

“You don’t--surely by now you’ve noticed the yellow anomaly?”

“The what?”

“The yellow anomaly! How none of the ring’s powers can affect anything that’s the colour yellow?”

“No. That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know it doesn’t really make _sense_ , but that’s the way it is. That’s how it’s always been. We never had any explanation for it, and the Guardians, the ones who created the Green Lantern powers in the first place, certainly never offered one no matter how many times we asked. But we dealt with it, and found ways around it. At least, until recently.

“Green is the colour of will, of courage, of strength of spirit. As such, when Green Lanterns harness the power of will, it manifests itself in green energy. But the yellow anomaly, if harnessed, creates the opposite power: the yellow power of fear. _That_ is why our rings are ineffective against yellow: it is the colour of fear, and fear is the enemy of will.

“And about an Earth year ago, something managed to tap into it. We’ve dealt with him since--a former member of the Corps, adamant that the power of fear was stronger than the power of will, turned against the rest of us and created a yellow ring. He recruited others to his side, and thanks to the yellow anomaly it took the entire Corps to bring down a handful. We finally managed it, but since the yellow ring was based on our own technology...well, one escaped, searching for a new owner. It hasn’t resurfaced since, but we’re still on the lookout. I was badly injured in the fight and ended up comatose while I recuperated.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Gohan said.

“Thank you, Gohan. I as well. But do you understand what I’m saying? I have no idea where the yellow ring is, and if it comes to Earth, _please_ call on the Corps for help. I don’t want you fighting this alone, no matter how strong you are. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Gohan didn’t think it would come to that, but he definitely wasn’t against asking for help. “Kojass, I have so many questions, but--” He stopped himself mid-word to yawn. “It’s really late here and I’m supposed to be asleep. Mom’ll be mad if she finds out I’m awake.”

“Of course.” Kojass laughed, sounding a little stronger than before. “Get some sleep, Son Gohan. I’ll talk to you another time.”

~~~

“Son Chi-Chi of Earth!”

Chi-Chi groaned and rolled over, pulling her pillow over her head.

“Queen of the Star Sapphires!”

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Goku was already awake and at the window, peering curiously out of it. He turned to her when she sat up. “Um...they’re asking for you.”

“I noticed.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. “Who’s ‘they?’”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of them outside, though.”

“Son Chi-Chi of Earth, Queen of the Star Sapphires!”

Chi-Chi stood and Goku moved away from the window so she could see outside. From their bedroom window, she could see an enormous mass of...what were they? They were humanoid, but definitely not human. And there were _hundreds_ of them.

She hurriedly snatched a robe hanging from her closet door and pulled it on, wrapping it around herself as she hurried off to check the rest of the house. Aliens coming into her family’s life and causing chaos _again_. She was getting sick of this.

“Mom, what’s happening?” Gohan stuck his head out from his room, rubbing sleep from his eyes and mussing his bedhead further. “I heard shouting.”

“I don’t know, hon.” She ushered him down the stairs. “You wait in the living room. Dad and I will sort this out.”

Except _that_ wasn’t an option either, apparently, because Piccolo was already outside when she got there, scowling out over the crowd. Goku appeared next to her, peering out at everyone, Gohan attached to his leg. He gave a long, slow whistle. “Where’d all these guys come from?”

“If I knew that, I would've sent them back there already,” Piccolo growled.

One of the humanoids stepped forward. She was tall, bald, stocky, and without an ounce of femininity about her, yet for some reason Chi-Chi instantly knew she was female--in fact, they all were, even though only a handful had characteristics associated with human women. Piccolo and Goku were instantly battle-ready, shifting into fighting stances, but the alien barely spared them a glance and a sneer before turning to Chi-Chi. “Son Chi-Chi of Earth?”

She folded her arms. “Who wants to know?”

The alien bowed, folding practically in half at the waist, head nearly touching the ground. “I am called Dashiri, and these are the Star Sapphires. We have come to make you our queen.”

Chi-Chi blinked bewilderedly. “Pardon?”

Dashiri straightened and looked her in the eyes. “Did you not receive our ring? The crystal informed us that you had received it yesterday.”

The ring. Chi-Chi glanced towards her bedroom window. She hadn't gotten a chance to figure out what it was yet, and her pride dictated that she figure it out for herself rather than ask her son. But it had also called her “Queen of the Star Sapphires” yesterday. Something bizarre was going on, and Chi-Chi didn't like it.

Dashiri held out her hand, and on one gnarled magenta-clad finger was a ring identical to the one still in Chi-Chi’s pants pocket upstairs. “A ring like this. Have you not received it?”

“No,” Chi-Chi lied. “Now get off my property. I ain't got time for this. I've got a family to take care of.”

Dashiri’s eyes narrowed and she let out a sharp whistle. Piccolo winced and covered his ears. There was a moment where nothing happened, and just when Chi-Chi was about to ask what that was all about the ring from yesterday zipped past her ear to float in front of her.

“Why would you lie to your subjects?” Dashiri asked. “We wish only to serve our queen and spread love through the galaxy. And you, Son Chi-Chi of Earth, have been chosen to become our new queen.”

“First of all,” Chi-Chi said, propping one fist on her hip and pointing at Dashiri with her other hand, “queens aren't usually ‘chosen,’ they're born into royalty or they marry into it. Secondly, I'm already the Ox Princess, so I don't need another title to my name, thanks. And finally, I've never even heard of you people before now. How could I have been ‘chosen,’ like you said? Doesn't add up.”

For the first time, Dashiri faltered. “It was the will of our late queen, Queen Jamir. You look so much like her.”

“What, so because I _look_ like your old queen you want me to leave behind my family and friends and...and everything else?” Chi-Chi scowled. “That's stupid and I won't do it. Get off my planet.”

Dashiri’s eyes went hard. “You would deny the will of our queen?”

“I would.” Chi-Chi’s chin tilted up defiantly. Maybe she was so bold because she knew Goku and Piccolo were right behind her, ready to attack if the need arose. Maybe it was because she knew she had duties here, where she was needed, and these aliens wouldn't take that from her. Or maybe it was just because she had always had the stubbornness that her Ox Princess heritage afforded her.

“That is...unfortunate. We can offer you power.” Dashiri gestured, and the ring floating in front of her moved towards Chi-Chi. “The violet light of love is ours to command. You, who have so much love in your heart, could be among the most powerful of the Star Sapphires.”

Chi-Chi glanced out at the crowd again. They were starting to grow restless. “Violet light?” That ring did look an awful lot like Gohan’s. Maybe it worked on the same principles.

“Yes.” Dashiri looked pleased that she had Chi-Chi’s attention. “Would you at least try it? See what you would be missing my not joining us.”

“I wouldn't,” Piccolo started.

Dashiri sniffed derisively. “Of course you wouldn't. You so deny how deeply the love within you runs that you wouldn't know if it bit you in the ass, let alone be able to harness the power of the Star Sapphire.”

Piccolo bristled. “Listen, you--”

Yamcha chose that moment to rush outside. “What’s happening? I came out as soon as I heard commotion!”

Dashiri narrowed her eyes at Yamcha, but ignored him and turned to Goku instead. “And you...you love as well, but you aren't very good at showing it.”

Goku pouted. “Well that's not fair. You don't know me.”

“The ring lets me know you.” Dashiri turned back to Chi-Chi. “Will you try?”

Chi-Chi took a breath. “If I do as you say and still deny you, will you leave?”

Dashiri turned to the Sapphires gathered behind her. There was murmuring, and some scowling, but mostly nodding. She turned back to Chi-Chi and gave a nod. “We would agree to that...but if you wear our ring, we are confident we can sway you to our side.”

She glanced behind her. Goku shrugged. Gohan bit his lip and fingered his own ring. Piccolo shook his head. Yamcha wrung his hands.

Chi-Chi held out her hand. “Fine. Let's do it.”

Dashiri smiled, and the ring moved forward and attached itself to Chi-Chi’s finger. Her vision went white and she was enveloped in a warm glow. Her head fell back and her eyes slid shut. Her heart was...so _light_ , but so _full_ , and…

When she opened her eyes again, nothing had changed. But Chi-Chi _felt_ different. She couldn’t place what it was, but something in her _glowed_ , with--with _love_ , and--something else. She couldn’t place what it was, but she didn’t like it. It didn’t belong with love, it was wrong, and--

“Um. Chi-Chi?”

Yamcha sounded like he was being strangled. She turned to the boys behind her.

Gohan’s nose was wrinkled and he was looking away, disgusted. Goku had shifted out of his battle stance, eyes wide in shock, but when she looked at him he grinned. Piccolo was impassive as always, though he did glance at Yamcha as though wondering what his problem was. And Yamcha--his face was red and his eyes were the size of dinner plates. He looked like he was about to pass out.

And that's when she realised that her clothes had changed.

Her face flamed red and she grabbed the cloak that had appeared on her shoulders, hastily wrapping it around herself. Oh _God_ , she hadn't worn something this revealing since she was a child and--come to think of it, it looked a lot like the battle outfit she'd worn as a child. Almost identical, even, aside from the colour. A skimpy pink top and bikini briefs were all she had to cover herself. Her cape brushed her shins and the same starburst emblem from the ring was emblazoned on the left side of her chest.

She turned back to Dashiri, fuming. “What is this?! What did you do?”

The alien woman beamed at her. “The power of the Star Sapphire flows through you, my queen.”

“Could it not do it a little more modestly?!” Chi-Chi snapped.

“The ring chose an outfit that was familiar to you--”

“I don’t care!” Chi-Chi huffed, drawing the cape tighter around her. Even worse than wearing something so revealing in front of strangers was wearing it in front of Gohan. No child should ever see so much of his mother. “This ain't right. Change me back.”

“But my queen--”

“And quit callin’ me that! I never agreed to be your queen!” Her hands balled into fists, still buried in her cape. “I’ve got a family to take care of; I ain’t got time to be your stinking queen!”

Dashiri’s eyes narrowed. “You reject the power offered to you?”

“You’re darn right I do!” She yanked the ring off her finger, her clothes thankfully disappearing back to her bathrobe and slippers when she did. “I don’t care for power. All I want--all I’ve _ever_ wanted--is to raise my family in peace.” She held the ring in the flat of her palm and shoved it at Dashiri. “Now take your ring and your queendom and get off my planet.”

There was no sound, no movement, for a long moment. Then Dashiri raised her head in defiance. “So be it.” She turned to the assembled crowd. “Our queen denies her role!”

The crowd erupted into angry shouts and cries in languages Chi-Chi had never heard. A hand reached out and pulled her back, and she stumbled backwards into Goku’s chest just as a green shield erupted in front of them. Gohan and Yamcha had their hands out, a bubble of green energy surrounding the five of them. Piccolo had a ball of ki in his hands, ready to fire. Dashiri glanced over her shoulder. “A Green Lantern?” She squinted. “No--two Green Lanterns. No wonder you refused to join us, if they’ve already poisoned you.”

“What’re you on about?” Chi-Chi snapped. Her fingers curled around the ring in her hand. “I told you to get going!”

Dashiri turned to face them and took up a battle stance. “I suppose we’ll have to dispose of them for you to truly see the light. Sisters, we attack!”

With a cry, the crowd surged forward. Yamcha and Gohan dropped their barrier. Goku yanked Chi-Chi behind him and dove into the crowd, a whirling flurry of kicks and punches, Yamcha on his tail. Chi-Chi pressed herself against the side of the house, watching Gohan take to the sky and summon a glowing green fist, sending it smashing through the horde. Piccolo fired off the ki he’d gathered in his hands and plunged into the battle with a roar.

Chi-Chi’s hand tangled itself in her robe as she watched the fight with wide eyes. She should be in there, too. This was her fight, not her husband’s, not her son’s, and definitely not Piccolo’s or Yamcha’s. But she was completely out of her depth here. Martial arts she could do--fights with aliens and exploding energy were a whole different beast.

Goku and Yamcha had suited up and stood back to back, surrounded by unconscious aliens and fending off attackers. Yamcha had a constructed sword in one hand and was swinging wildly; Goku ducked and punched and laughed while he did it. A massive burst of green energy suddenly obscured them for a brief moment, and Chi-Chi’s heart stopped. But then they were both still there, an enormous swath of downed aliens in front of Yamcha, and although Yamcha looked bewildered they both seemed to be alright.

The ring dug into her palm as she tightened her fist. Dashiri had said the ring could grant power, hadn’t she? If she used it--could she level the playing field? She wanted to help. She _had_ to help. She couldn’t just stand around here doing nothing while the people most important to her--and Piccolo--fought her battles!

Movement at the corner of her vision caught her attention, and her head snapped around just in time to see that Dashiri had managed to get behind Gohan and was almost on him.

Chi-Chi saw red.

The next thing she knew, she was in the air, cape fluttering behind her, screaming “GET AWAY FROM MY SON, YOU _MONSTER_!” She grabbed Dashiri around the waist and threw her to the ground with all her strength. Gohan turned to face her, eyes wide.

With Dashiri’s impact, the battlefield fell silent. All eyes turned to her again and this time, instead of covering herself and balking, Chi-Chi landed and stalked towards the Star Sapphires. “Alright, listen up!” she snapped. The crowd shrank away from her as she approached. “I don’t care what your reasons for being here are. You’ll never get me to join you by attacking the people I love!” She stopped before them, one foot back, a hand in a fist at her hip, the other up by her face, an old fighting stance from her youth. “And anyone who tries it will _pay_!”

No one spoke, no one moved. They seemed dumbfounded.

Then a voice from behind her spoke. “You truly would have made a fantastic queen.”

Chi-Chi spun on her heel. Dashiri stood behind her, looking a little worse for wear, a rueful smile on her face. Her arm hung mangled at her side. “If that is what you want, we will leave,” she continued.

“You should’ve done already,” Chi-Chi said bitingly.

Dashiri tried to bow, but winced in pain. Another Sapphire rushed to her side, but Dashiri waved her off. “One day, I hope you can understand the mistake you have made today.” Her voice was cold, her eyes hard. “Angering the Star Sapphires is never a wise choice, even for a queen.” Chi-Chi held her ground. This _thing_ had attacked her family. She would not back down from this.

They stared unflinchingly at one another for a long minute. Then Dashiri took a wobbly step forward. “You are so strong,” she sighed. She moved past Chi-Chi and continued back to her mob. “We will be off of your planet within the hour.”

“Take this.” Chi-Chi wrenched the ring off her finger. “I don’t want your queendom, and I don’t want your ring.”

Dashiri waved her off. “Keep it. I, if no one else, will hold out hope that you will one day see our point of view and join us as our rightful queen. In the meantime, I will continue to lead.”

“Fine.” Chi-Chi stuffed it in a pocket of her robe. “That day will never come.”

“So you say, Son Chi-Chi. So you say.”

~~~

True to their word, the Star Sapphires were gone within an hour. Yamcha supervised while they revived their comrades and lifted off towards the stratosphere. Goku and Gohan both offered to help him, but he turned them down. He needed to be alone for a bit.

Gods. _Chi-Chi._

She was so--well, Yamcha had always known she was cute. And pretty strong, for someone who didn’t train day in and day out like the men in her life. But he’d never seen her like that before--a proud warrior queen in her own right, strong and blazing with light and power and--

And almost totally naked.

He pushed his hand through his hair and groaned. This was awful. He shouldn’t be thinking about Chi-Chi like this. She--she was _married_ , for Kami’s sake! To a man he’d known for almost half his life! And he _respected_ her, and he respected Goku, and he respected their privacy, and he shouldn’t be thinking about her in that outfit but there he was, watching a bunch of magenta-clad aliens take to the skies and trying not to think about Chi-Chi’s thighs.

It wasn’t his fault, he reasoned. It wasn’t like he’d _meant_ to see her like that. Of course, it wasn’t _her_ fault either--it just happened. It was a little like walking in on her getting changed or something. Surely he’d have the same reaction if it was anyone else, right? He’d been so embarrassed the first time he’d seen Bulma in her underwear, after all, and even the first time he saw Goku shirtless after he grew up.

It _was_ a little weird, though--more than a little weird--seeing someone he’d known since she was twelve in an outfit like that and coming to the abrupt realisation that she’s definitely not twelve anymore. Kami, but she was _cut_.

“Yamcha? You good?”

He jumped at Goku’s voice next to him. Goku was waving his hand in Yamcha’s face, and he grinned when Yamcha’s eyes focused on him. “You’ve been staring into space for a few minutes. The Star Sapphires’ve all left, right?”

Yamcha nodded and took a calming breath. “Yeah. They kept giving me dirty looks, though. I guess they really hate Green Lanterns for some reason.”

“Yeah, Gohan’s trying to contact his friend Kojass about it.” Goku shrugged. “Anyway, you coming back inside? Chi-Chi’s still kinda freaking out and we need someone to make breakfast while I calm her down.” He smiled hopefully at Yamcha.

Yamcha almost laughed, settling for a rueful smile instead. “I’m good for more than cooking, you know.”

“But you’re the next best cook I know after Chi-Chi!” Goku grabbed Yamcha’s hand and pulled him into the house. “I’m not good at mushy stuff, but I’m even _worse_ at cooking. Unless you want barbequed fish for breakfast and nothing else, you’ve gotta make breakfast. Piccolo’ll help you!”

“I will _not_.”

Yamcha did laugh at that, and watched Goku sit next to his wife on the couch and put his arm around her before disappearing into the kitchen, a strange weight settling in his heart. Truth be told, he’d always been a little jealous of Goku and Chi-Chi’s relationship. He remembered as a teenager witnessing their engagement (such as it was) and crying to Puar afterwards that it wasn’t fair, why did this obnoxious little monkey boy get to be so good at fighting _and_ have most of the Dragon Balls _AND_ get engaged so early, it wasn’t _fair_. He wanted to fall in love and get married too, dammit.

When Chi-Chi showed up to the Budokai all those years later, demanding Goku remember his promise and marry her, Yamcha had felt a little sick. Once again, surpassed by Goku--not only was he stronger than anyone else he knew, he had a cute girlfriend--no, _fiancee_ \--who was strong in a fight to boot! Completely unfair.

Even now, watching them together got him a little green-eyed. Their relationship was just so...effortless, in a way his relationship with Bulma had never been. Yamcha watched from the kitchen as Goku petted Chi-Chi’s hair and she talked about what they were going to do next with the whole Star Sapphire business. He sighed. He wanted what they had. But if he couldn’t have it with Bulma--and with the way things had gone, there was no way in hell that was going to happen--he didn’t know who he wanted it with.

Thoughts of Bulma twisted his stomach and made him nauseous. He turned back to the kitchen counter and focused his attention on breakfast. Maybe everyone would feel better and think clearer after they’d eaten.

Except Piccolo, of course.

~~~

“You’ve been dealing with so much.”

Kojass sounded sad. Gohan shrugged, even though Kojass couldn’t see him. “It’s been pretty quiet except for what I just told you about. Nothing really bad’s happened.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to answer you sooner.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“Perhaps.” Kojass sighed. “I still should have anticipated something happening to me and given you an emergency backup to call, but...well, considering what caused me to go silent, I don’t know that would have helped much. And even now, I still don’t have many answers for you.”

Gohan didn’t say anything. He tucked his pillow under his chin and stared at his ring. Its light pulsed with Kojass’s voice. He’d gone up to his room to talk to Kojass at his mom’s insistence. “You should have some privacy when you’re on the phone like that,” she’d said. Gohan didn’t point out that it wasn’t really a phone, or that the only reason she wanted him out of the room was so she could fall apart a little without Gohan seeing her. He just went upstairs without protest.

“The Green Lanterns tend to avoid the Star Sapphires,” Kojass continued. “So I don’t know all that much about them. I’ve only encountered a Sapphire twice in all my years in the Corps, and neither time was...pleasant.”

“Yeah.” Gohan rolled onto his back and held his hand out in front of him, eyes only half-focused on his ring. “They were pretty mean.”

“‘Pretty mean’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Kojass grumbled. “Their mission is to spread love through the universe, and they’re not exactly...discerning about how they do that. They’re willing to use force to convert people to their side, if necessary.”

“They tried to kill me and Yamcha.”

Kojass laughed. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be so cavalier about your near-death.”

Gohan rolled onto his stomach again. “It’s not the first time. I’m fine. So what do we do with Mom’s ring?”

“I’d get rid of it, if I were you. It’s based on the same technology as our rings, if I’m not mistaken--they could use it as a tracking device.”

Gohan grimaced. “She’s not really planning on leaving the planet.”

“But will someone always be around to protect her if they come back?”

Gohan thought back to not even an hour ago, when he’d heard a scream behind him and turned to see his mom--his own mother, a woman who knew how to fight but rarely ever did--streaking through the air towards him before grabbing Dashiri out of the air and sending her hurtling into the ground. “I don’t think she needs anyone to. And if her ring works the same way mine does, maybe _I_ can teach her how it works! It’s going pretty well with Dad and Yamcha already!”

“If you say so.” Kojass didn’t sound convinced, but it dropped the subject. “Wait, your father? He came back? And he has a ring now, too?”

“Oh.” Gohan squirmed. “I guess I forgot to tell you that, huh?”

 

“Yes, I guess you did. Don’t tell me he’s a Star Sapphire now, too.”

“I thought you said they only let girls in.”

“There have been...exceptions. Especially since not every species has a ‘female’ counterpart.”

Gohan thought about Namekians and nodded. That made sense, he guessed. “Well, no, it’s not a Star Sapphire ring, but we don’t really know what it is. It looks a lot like mine and yours and Yamcha’s, but it’s blue.”

Kojass gasped. “B-blue?”

“Yeah. Oh, and there was this man from the future who showed up and he had one too. Except he said his didn’t work. But then we put mine next to his and it kind of--” Gohan frowned. “It kind of exploded? But not really. And then he left, so I don’t know what happened after that.”

“Let’s focus on your father for a moment.” Kojass sounded shaken. “His ring was blue? He didn’t have one when I saw him on Yardrat.”

“He said it showed up a while after you left. He didn’t know when; he says time is weird in space.” Kojass let out a strangled laugh. “Is...is it bad?” Gohan asked tentatively. It didn’t _seem_ bad. It didn’t make constructs very well, but other than that it didn’t seem like it was sucking his dad’s life energy or anything.

“Oh, no,” Kojass said. “The Blue Lanterns are just...well, they’re practically legends. I didn’t think they really existed.”

“What do you know about them?” Gohan sat up, his back resting against his headboard. “Dad’s been dying to find out more about his ring since he finally got it off.”

“Since he--was it stuck?”

“Yeah, every time it was near mine it’d ask him what he hoped for, and when he finally answered it he could get it off. It gave him a uniform and everything. But he’s really bad at making constructs.”

“Blue Lanterns aren’t really construct-oriented like Green Lanterns are,” Kojass explained. “I don’t know much about them--like I said, I didn’t think they really existed. It’s said that a long time ago, two Guardians--the ones who created the Corps in the first place--decided that it was important to harness more of the emotional spectrum than just will and courage. They tried to convince the others, but they wouldn’t listen. So they left, and created the Blue Lanterns of hope.” It grunted. “I don’t know if it’s true or not. But they say that if Blue and Green Lanterns work together, they can be an unstoppable force--will backed by hope is the strongest will of all.”

Gohan remembered the massive burst of energy from Yamcha’s ring while he fought back-to-back with Goku. “That makes sense.”

“I’ll try to look into the Blue Lanterns more,” Kojass said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

“No, it’s fine!” Gohan protested, sitting up straight and looking right at his ring. “You were a big help!”

“No, I wasn’t,” Kojass laughed, “but that’s nice of you to say. Call me if you need anything else--and if I can’t answer, talk to Gowollik. He’s the drill sergeant for new recruits, and while he’s gruff and rude, he’s got a good heart. Considering your Namekian, I think you’d get along with him.”

Now it was Gohan’s turn to laugh. “Okay. Bye, Kojass.”

“Stay safe, Son Gohan.”


	6. Our Souls Ignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few revelations are had, training continues with some new participants, and Piccolo is the Salt Machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 3000 years..............................

Trunks sat crosslegged on his bed, turning the blue ring over in his fingers. Ever since the incident with the other Gohan’s ring, it had been silent. It hadn’t spoken again--to him or his mother--it didn’t even glow. There was a faint buzz of energy about it as he ran a thumb over the symbol engraved into it, but nothing Trunks could pin down or harness.

He scowled. At first he'd thought the ring might be something that could help him against the androids. Maybe it had information on them, plans or blueprints or _something_. But for a week now it had just been a piece of jewelry.

His mother hadn't been able to find out much, either. According to her, it was definitely technology, but there was no way of opening it up to take a look at its machinery without destroying it beyond repair (or at least beyond her repair). She also hadn't found anything in her research about it, and it was frustrating her. “For all I know,” she'd huffed, “there was a mountain of research done on these things before the apocalypse. But if there was, it's either gone or inaccessible now.”

Trunks had considered actually wearing it properly, thinking that maybe that was the key to making it do something, _anything_. But Goku had said his wouldn't come off once it was on, and Trunks wasn't sure he wanted to take that chance. What if it never came off, and it somehow hindered his ability to fight? A chill ran down his spine as a thought occurred to him--what if Goku’s ring kept _him_ from fighting at full capacity? They couldn't afford that. This whole thing would only work if Goku was in top form--if _everyone_ was in top form. If the rings were going to cause a problem--

A soft glow suddenly shone forth from the ring’s symbol. Trunks’s breath caught and a warm wave of calm washed over him. His eyes closed and his breath evened out. Despite himself, a smile spread across his face. _Do not worry, Trunks Briefs of Earth._ The words rang clearly in his mind. It was the same voice that had spoken to him when his ring was next to Gohan’s, ringing just as clearly in his mind as the first time. But instead of panicking him as it had the first time, the voice soothed him, filled him with peace and hope. _All will be well._

Trunks’s eyes blinked open slowly. The blue light had faded and the voice was gone, but there was something of them left behind--he could feel it in his heart. It was a strange, odd feeling, warm and calming. It was from the ring, Trunks knew that--he didn’t know how, but he did. He turned the ring over in his fingers, studying it again. So far, all it seemed to do was reassure him. Under most circumstances, that kind of superpower wasn’t much help. It certainly wouldn’t help him in a fight.

But Trunks’s circumstances weren’t most circumstances, and sometimes it was nice to just have someone tell him everything would be alright. His hands shook as he guided the ring onto his left middle finger and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for something miraculous to happen.

After a long moment of nothing, he cracked one eye open to squint at the ring. It sat on his finger, soft light pulsing gently, but otherwise doing nothing. Trunks sighed. He was getting all worked up over nothing, as usual. He flopped back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He really should stop all this moping about with the ring and get back to training. But if he was going to be any help against the other timeline’s androids, he needed to be in top form, and that included taking breaks when he needed to. His mother insisted that he take a rest day every so often, though whether it was more for his benefit or so she wasn’t alone in the lab as often was anyone’s guess.

There was a knock at the door, and his mother’s head appeared around the doorframe. “Hi, honey,” she said, grinning. She wasn’t smoking--she’d agreed a long time ago never to smoke in his room--but he could smell that she’d just put a cigarette out before she came in. “I’ve been working on a way to improve the fuel cells for the house’s defense systems. Want to see?”

“Sure.” Trunks sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand. Maybe she’d let him putter around in the lab for a while, build a little contraption to get his mind off things.

“Think you’ll be ready to go back when the machine’s set?” she asked as she led the way down the hallway to her makeshift lab. “It should only be a few days now.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Trunks found himself playing with the ring on his finger and forced his hands back to his sides. “I’m not sure you can ever really be ready for something like this.”

She laughed. “True enough.” She typed a passcode into a hidden panel, deactivating the force field blocking the lab door. “Come on, let’s build some shit.”

~~~

Chi-Chi rubbed her eyes. She had’t slept well the night before. With everything that had happened with the Star Sapphires, she was exhausted enough that she’d thought she would sleep well. But she’d tossed and turned most of the night, sleep eluding her until the early morning. She kept wondering if she’d done the right thing. Yes, she had, of course she had. But what if she hadn’t? What if she’d caused more problems by saying no than she would have by saying yes?

“Mom?”

Gohan gripped the front of her dress, looking up at her with bright, worried eyes. “Dad says we’re gonna go train now. We’ll come back in for lunch.”

She ruffled his hair. “Alright. Be safe, have fun, don’t break the house, and if it gets too much you come right on back.” She always said the same thing before Gohan went off to train. It made her feel better, if nothing else.

“Well, um.” Gohan fidgeted, his eyes flicking to her pocket. Chi-Chi tensed. She hoped he wasn’t about to ask what she thought he was. “You’ve got a ring now, too.”

“Yes.” This was going where she thought it was. She decided to head him off at the pass. “I’m not training with you, Gohan.”

“Come on, Mom,” Gohan begged, “it’ll be fun! Dad said you used to be a martial artist, and I can show you how our rings work! Please, Mom?”

“Sweetie.” Chi-Chi knelt so she was eye level with her son. “Your heart’s in the right place. But I want to forget yesterday happened, okay? If the Star Sapphires somehow got wind of the fact that I’m actually using their ring, they might come back and try to make me their queen again. If they do that, people might get hurt. I don’t want that.”

Gohan looked down, fidgeting. “By people, you mean me, don’t you.”

He was more perceptive than she’d thought. “It’s not just that,” she added. “That outfit I had yesterday? I...when I was a kid I used to wear clothes like that.” Gohan’s nose wrinkled and she sighed. “I liked them at the time! It was one of my favourite outfits, nonrestrictive, easy to clean, and I thought the cape was cute. But now…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s not something I’m comfortable wearing just...around. I feel too exposed. So I’m not wearing that outfit, and I’m definitely not training in it.”

He tapped his thumbs together, thinking, and she thought that was the end of it. Chi-Chi stood up. “I appreciate the offer, honey. But I’m not--”

“I can show you.” Gohan looked up at her hopefully again. “If I can change my outfit, you should be able to too!”

“Sweetie, that’s really not--”

A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind and Goku rested his chin on her shoulder. “Come on, Chi, it’ll be like old times! Remember how we used to spar just after we got married? That was fun, right?”

Chi-Chi elbowed him off of her and turned to face both of them, arms folded. “Maybe,” she admitted. It _had_ been fun. But it had also been nearly ten years now--she certainly couldn’t spar while she was pregnant, and after Gohan was born she hadn’t had the time. A part of her missed it, but the other part… “I’m out of practise, I’m not a fighter, and if I don’t take care of this house then no one will,” she said.

Gohan clasped his hands together. “Pleeeease?” he begged, his eyes wide and pleading.

Chi-Chi faltered. Oh, she’d always had a hard time shooting Gohan down when he pulled that face. “W-well.” She looked around at their house. The breakfast dishes were washed and put away, it was too early to start lunch, the laundry was done and Yamcha had run a vacuum for her two days ago. She’d planned on washing the windows today, but maybe that could wait. She looked at Goku, hands on his hips and grinning casually at her, and Gohan, his eyes full of hope. Chi-Chi sighed. “Just for a little while, alright? I’m coming back in early to make lunch.”

Gohan absolutely beamed at her, hands clenched in excited fists in front of him. “Awesome! Come on, Mom, come outside!” He grabbed her hand with both of his and started pulling her towards the door.

~~~

Piccolo glowered at the rest of the group from his position next to the Son house. “This is taking too long,” he growled. He was ignored, and he fought back a snarl. If he didn’t get a sparring partner in the next five minutes he was going to start throwing punches.

This was what he got for training with people who gave a shit about other things. When Gohan had told him that his mother would be joining them for practise this morning, he’d just nodded and agreed to wait while she got her uniform figured out. Piccolo remembered how fierce she’d been at the tournament where they’d first met almost ten years ago. He’d never had the chance to square off against her, and he relished the idea of a new challenge.

But it was taking so _long_ for her to get her act in gear. Apparently, the outfit her ring gave her was unsatisfactory or something. It was just an outfit. Honestly. She’d seemed so embarrassed by it the day before, but Piccolo didn’t really see what the big deal was. Chi-Chi called it “undignified,” but he didn’t see how. It showed off her muscles. What was so undignified about a display of strength?

Gohan had been trying to show her how to use her ring powers to modify her uniform for the last half hour, and either Star Sapphire rings worked differently from Green Lantern rings or Chi-Chi was just terrible at it. She had pants on now, formfitting magenta things that also covered her feet, but her top was still the same small armor piece from the day before. Gohan thought this was great progress, apparently.

Piccolo drummed his fingers on his arm and wondered how Tenshinhan was doing. It had been a while since he’d seen him and Chiaotzu, despite what they’d said about sparring together when Goku first came back. If time wasters like these were going to become a common occurrence, he’d probably seek him out sooner rather than later.

Not that he was only going to see Tenshinhan because of how fed up he was with the Sons and Yamcha, of course. Tenshinhan wasn’t the strongest fighter of the group, but he was different, certainly. And sometimes that was what Piccolo wanted: a sparring partner that he hadn’t spent all his time studying and working to defeat for most of his life. Tenshinhan surprised him when they sparred, which wasn’t often, but hopefully that would change soon. Yes, a visit to Tenshinhan and Chiaotzu seemed like a very good idea.

Chi-Chi gasped as her cape vanished and turned into one of those dress things she liked so much. Piccolo squinted. It looked a lot like the outfit she’d worn back in the tournament he’d first seen her and Goku (and Yamcha and Tenshinhan, now that he thought about it) at. It was pink and purple instead of blue and red, but aside from colour and the fact that her pants were tight to her legs, it was basically the same. Goku grinned at her and flashed a thumbs up. “Looks good, Chi!” he declared. “You ready to start yet?”

She looked herself over, manifested a pair of pink elbow-length gloves, and nodded. “This will do nicely, yes.”

Yamcha had spent the whole ordeal with his back to the three Sons, staring pointedly at the woods. Something about “modesty.” He turned to look when Chi-Chi declared she was ready and smiled weakly. “Nice,” he said. “You look good.” Goku nodded, and Chi-Chi smiled and looked at the ground bashfully.

Yes, Piccolo was definitely going to visit Tenshinhan and Chiaotzu soon. This was just annoying now.

~~~

Chi-Chi crashed to the ground, yelping in pain. Yamcha flew at her, aiming a foot at her stomach, but she caught him by the ankle and threw him off. He stumbled back, crashing into someone and tumbling to the ground. Almost immediately, Chi-Chi was on top of him, pinning both Yamcha and whoever he’d landed on to the ground with the help of a giant pink hand she’d conjured. Yamcha squirmed, and there were hands on his shoulders trying to push him off, and he suddenly realised he was pinned between Chi-Chi and Goku and wriggling awkwardly between them. He gulped and shoved at Chi-Chi. This wasn’t a position he wanted to be in.

Glancing behind him at Goku, he remembered what had happened the day before when they fought together. He grabbed Goku’s hand, the one with the ring, and made a construct hand of his own.

It burst forth with a brilliant, almost white light, sending Chi-Chi flying and banishing her construct. Yamcha rolled off Goku and started to stand, but Goku yanked him back and tried to pull him into a hold. He grinned. Wrestling, huh? Fine, it had been a while. Shoving Goku’s shoulder, Yamcha tried to pin him down, but Goku overpowered him and slammed Yamcha back first into the ground. Suddenly he was looking up at Goku with his arms pinned by his sides and Goku’s grinning face not far from his own, and he definitely wasn’t thinking about it. His arms were pinned but his legs were free, and he hooked them around Goku’s waist to give himself enough leverage to flip their positions, throwing his whole body into it. Goku’s eyes widened as he tipped over with an undignified shriek.

Now Yamcha was on top and grinning, sitting on Goku’s legs and struggling to get Goku’s arms under control too. Suddenly something grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up, and Yamcha was face to face with Chi-Chi again. She had a puffy cheek that Yamcha didn’t have time to feel bad for before she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a tree. His head knocked back against it and he was disoriented for a moment. When he could think again, his hands were pinned over his head by pink energy and his feet dangled off the ground. Chi-Chi looked very pleased with herself as he struggled.

His chest heaved and he was dizzy. On the one hand, he was almost (sadly) used to his sparring matches ending with him on the ground or pinned to something. On the other, there was something extra embarrassing at having his defeat get handed to him by the husband and wife team. A short burst of ki freed him from his bonds and he dropped to the ground, a hand up. “Okay,” he panted, “I’m done for today. I know when I’m beat.”

Goku offered him a hand up. “Good going today, Yamcha!” He beamed at Yamcha as he pulled him to his feet. “You’ve got some really good moves!”

Yamcha gave a tight smile. “Thanks. I’m pretty beat now, though. Is it okay if I quit for now? I could go make lunch.”

“I’ll go with you,” Chi-Chi immediately offered. She powered her ring down and it melted back into the sleeveless dress and pants she’d had on before. “I think I’m done for now, too.” She had a look in her eye that Yamcha wasn’t sure he liked, a critical glint directed his way. He had a feeling she was offering to go with him for reasons other than just lunch.

Goku didn’t seem to pick up on any of it. He just grinned and gave the two of them a thumbs up. “Okay! I’m going to train with Piccolo and Gohan for a while then. Have fun!” He took off towards where Piccolo was instructing Gohan with basic drills.

Yamcha powered his own ring down and started walking towards the house. “What should we make for lunch?” he asked Chi-Chi as she fell into step alongside him.

“Something simple, I think.” Chi-Chi pushed the door open and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t have the energy to make anything too fancy right now.”

“Fair enough.” Yamcha washed his hands and started peeling carrots when he was directed to. He loved cooking and was (he thought) pretty good at it, but out of respect he always defaulted to Chi-Chi when they cooked in her kitchen. It was hers, after all, and he was just a guest. Although there had been one time where she’d asked him to show her how to make something, and there had been a few times where he did all the cooking on his own.

“Yamcha, can we talk?” Chi-Chi sat at the table beside him, turned towards him. She looked unusually serious, and he tried to keep his eyes focused on his carrots. “I’ve been, well, experimenting with the ring a little.” He glanced up at her. She was twisting it around her finger, still staring intently at him. It made him nervous, and he returned his attention to his hands. “Yamcha, something Dashiri said the other day...the ring lets me know you. That’s what she said. I don’t think she was making that up.”

“Mhm.” Yamcha put one carrot down and picked up another one, eyes focused on his task. “That’s cool.”

“Yamcha.” Her voice turned hard and he looked at her again. She was frowning. “I want to know what happened with Bulma.”

He swallowed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Please.” She put her hand over his and he stopped moving, not wanting to slice her fingers by accident. “I want to help you work through it. You’ve got so much pain and sadness tied up in love that it’s impossible to tell where one stops and another starts. What did she do?” She squeezed his hand. “How did she hurt you?”

His eyes stung. “I-I--she didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Chi-Chi took one hand in both of hers, squeezing it reassuringly. “Talk to me, Yamcha. I might be able to help.”

He laughed bitterly. “No, it’s pretty much past help. She’s seen to that.”

“I don’t mean help your relationship,” she said dismissively. “I’m not so good a person as to care about _that_. I care about _you_. I want _you_ to be happy. I want to help _you_ , not _you and Bulma_.”

“Oh.” Yamcha looked down at their hands. “Don’t you like her?”

“Whether I like Bulma or not isn’t important. She’s fine, I guess, but I like you more.” Chi-Chi shrugged. “You like her, and she’s important to you. So talk to me.”

Yamcha bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to say. “It’s...complicated,” he started. “We had another fight a little while ago. We broke up and I went off to train with Tien and Chiaotzu.” He squeezed her hands tighter. “Then when I went back to try and talk to her about it after we’d cooled down she...she and Vegeta…”

Chi-Chi’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“And they weren’t _together_ or anything,” he added, and now that the words were out they wouldn’t stop coming. “But they’d definitely been sleeping together, at least once, because she’s p-pregnant and--and she wants to keep it and I’m just--I’m so _mad_ but I don’t really have any right to _be_ mad because we weren’t even together at that point and I’m being selfish but I--”

“You still love her,” Chi-Chi said gently. She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay to be upset. Being upset means you care.”

“A little too much,” Yamcha mumbled.

“None of that now.” Chi-Chi patted his back and pulled away. “You should talk to her again. Even if your romantic relationship is beyond repair, you two have known each other for too long to not be friends anymore.”

Yamcha shrugged and wiped his eyes on the heels of his hands. “It’s not that easy. Not everyone can have as easy a relationship as you and Goku.” He knew he sounded bitter, but at this point he didn’t know how not to.

“Me and Goku?” To his surprise, Chi-Chi laughed and stood up. “You’ve seen us fight. Our relationship isn’t easy.”

“Easier than mine and Bulma’s.”

She paused. “You have a point.” Hesitantly, she patted his shoulder. “Listen, if you ever want to talk about it, my ring and I are here for you.”

He picked up his carrot and paring knife. “Thanks.” He wouldn’t.

~~~

The ring did come off when Trunks pulled on it, which was a relief and a half. He didn’t bother taking it off most of the time. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable wearing it and gripping his sword at the same time as he’d thought it would be. Most nights he didn’t even bother taking it off before bed. It helped relax him, and with the world going to shit as much as it was, he could use all the help with that he could get.

He kept finding himself fidgeting with it when his mind started to wander. It was oddly comforting. Trunks still didn’t know anything about its purpose, but he was a little less wary of it. Maybe it was a mistake to let his guard down about anything this late in the game, but being constantly cautious about everything was exhausting. Just having this one little thing to not worry about helped. Not much, but it did.

Trunks and his mother had performed several experiments with it, but their results had all been inconclusive. The ring seemed to need something else to function at full capacity, but they didn’t know what. (His mother hypothesized that it was something to do with Gohan’s ring, but they’d have to wait until Trunks went back in time again to test the theory.) Trunks could sense immense power coming from it sometimes, but not always, and it was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. It wasn’t “organic” like ki (for lack of a better term), but it wasn’t like the androids’ energy signatures either--he couldn’t sense those at all. And the fact that it fluctuated constantly was bizarre in and of itself.

Their most recent breakthrough, such as it was, determined that it was probably a communication device of some kind. Sometimes a fuzzy sort of faint static would come out of it. His mom thought it was some kind of residual white noise from distant communications. Trunks wasn’t sure what to make of that. Most communicators went two directions, unless it was some kind of bug. Had someone on the other side of the world--or universe--been listening in on him and his mom and their struggles? On the other hand, if they _had_ heard about their problems, why hadn’t they come to help?

He sat on his bed, legs crossed, staring intently at the ring. It sat innocently on his finger, gently pulsing with soft blue light. Usually, watching its light for long enough helped bring his anxiety under control, but today it wasn’t working. The time machine would be ready soon, and that combined with the new information about the possible communication function of his ring, he was too keyed up. In two days he’d be going back to the past again. He’d help fight the androids in any way he could, and hopefully it would be a quick ordeal with Goku fighting on their side this time. But he was still anxious, and the closer it got to being time to leave, the more anxious he became.

Trunks absently rubbed his thumb over the ring’s symbol. If the ring was some kind of communication device...maybe he could use it. He lifted it to his face, glancing around nervously. There was no one around to hear him if it didn’t work and he sounded like an idiot.

He cleared his throat. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

No response. Trunks sighed. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. But the ring had talked to him twice before. He’d try one more time before he gave up the idea entirely.

“This is Trunks Briefs of Earth,” he said, speaking directly into the ring. “If anyone’s listening, Earth could really use your help. Please. I need-- _we_ need all the help we can get. Our people are being systematically wiped out by a biomechanical menace and there aren’t many of us left. If you’re able to--”

_Trunks Briefs of Earth._ The ring’s voice echoed in his mind, soothing and calm as always. His breath caught and he stopped talking, waiting for it to speak again. _All will be well. You will have the help you need, but it will have to come from within you. You are the only Blue Lantern left in this timeline._

Icy fear gripped his heart. No. No, no, not another one. He was already the last of the Saiyans, the last fighter, the last hope for the planet. He couldn’t be the last of his kind _again_ , even if he didn’t know what he was actually the last of this time. What was a Blue Lantern?

_Don’t be afraid,_ the ring said. _You will have help. But it will not come from this timeline. Keep hope in your heart and the power will come to you._

“How?” he asked, but the voice was gone. Trunks flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Well. That wasn’t helpful at all.

It was late. He should get some sleep. He had one more full day of training and then it was time to go back. Trunks tossed his jacket into a corner of the room and rolled over, trying not to think too hard about the ring for now. All it would do was keep him up at night.

He left it on, though.

~~~

“Are you leaving?”

Yamcha froze at Goku’s voice. Slowly, he turned to see his friend standing in the doorway leading from the kitchen to the living room. He offered him a weak grin. “Just for a while.”

“But you only just got here,” Goku whined. He wandered into the living room, hands in his pockets. Yamcha squirmed and went back to reorganising the contents of his backpack. “We were just getting used to having you around! And me and Gohan love training with you. You should stay.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Yamcha said. His eyes stayed resolutely glued to his task, refusing to look up at Goku.

“You’re not imposing.” Goku slung an arm around his shoulder and Yamcha swallowed. “We like having you here.”

Yamcha shrugged him off. “Th-that’s nice...I mean, thank you. I appreciate it.”

“So stay!” Goku grabbed Yamcha’s shoulders and turned him to face him. He was grinning. “I know Chi-Chi likes having you here too. She keeps talking about how it’s nice to have a guy who likes cooking and stuff around to help her out cuz I’m always off training Gohan.”

Yamcha shook his head with a wry smile. “That’s her dropping hints about _you_ helping around the house more.”

“I help out,” Goku said defensively. “I get food and go fishing and look after Gohan and chop wood and fix stuff. Mostly.” He looked vaguely guilty and Yamcha had to suppress a grin at the memory of Goku trying to fix their leaky roof. “But we like having you here. Why do you have to go?”

He shrugged. “I just do. You guys have this big happy family thing going here and the longer I stay the more I feel like I’m intruding.”

“You’re _not_.” Goku gripped his shoulders tighter and stared at him intently. Yamcha’s mouth went dry. Goku didn’t often look intense about anything outside of a fight or a challenge. Although maybe he thought of getting Yamcha to stay as a challenge. Hell if he knew what went on in that head. “Yamcha, _stay_.”

Yamcha gently removed Goku’s hands from his shoulders. “I can’t. I won’t. Puar and I are leaving.”

“But why?” Goku whined.

He hesitated. What should he say? He couldn’t tell Goku that Chi-Chi kept trying to fix his love life, or that the longer he stayed and watched them grow the more he felt like he was falling behind, or about the annoyed looks Piccolo kept giving him. He couldn’t tell him that even with his extra Green Lantern powers he was still inadequate, still not good enough. He couldn’t tell him that maybe he just needed a little time to scream into the forest without all three of them descending on him to ask what was wrong. He needed to be with someone who wouldn’t ask questions, like Tien.

Worst of all, though, was that he couldn’t tell Goku that maybe, just maybe, he’d been spending just a little too much time with him and his wife lately and it was messing with his head. He was still upset over Bulma, he couldn’t totally forgive her yet, and he thought that was fair. What _wasn’t_ fair was how jealous he’d started getting of Goku and Chi-Chi’s relationship. And it wasn’t the same kind of jealous as he’d been before, where he was jealous of their relationship in general. No, now he was jealous of both of them for being in a relationship with each other.

It didn’t make sense to him. Goku and Chi-Chi had been married for nearly ten years now, and he’d never been upset about it before, not like this. He didn’t just want what they had, he wanted what they had _with them_. It was weird, and it scared him, and the longer he was in this house with them treating him like one of the family, the worse it got. He wasn’t going to let it continue.

But he couldn’t tell Goku all of that. At best, he’d be laughed at. At worst, he’d get punched in the face.

“I need to go check on the apartment,” he lied. He’d sublet his apartment when he found out he’d be spending most of the next three years training. “And I should show my face in town a little so the tabloids stop printing articles about how I’ve died or something.” That was true. He’d found one at the supermarket the last time he helped Chi-Chi with groceries. It had been hilarious, but he didn’t want any more weird rumours like that to spread. “And nobody’s heard anything from Tien and Chiaotzu in a while. I figure someone’d better go check on them.” He tried to flash a witty grin, but it felt weird on his face. “You know how they are.”

Goku laughed. “Yeah, they like to keep to themselves.” He clapped Yamcha on the shoulder again. “Well, we’re all going to miss you. Make sure you say goodbye to everyone before you leave, okay?”

Yamcha’s awkward grin turned into a sad smile as he turned back to his backpack. “Sure. No problem.”


	7. Nok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be falling apart, and then a mysterious occurrence makes things go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh......hey...........
> 
> So so so so sorry for the accidental almost-year hiatus, I just. Didn't know where to go with this chapter for a long time. Sorry if it seems like more filler? But I promise if you can get through my weird ships and stuff there's more plot at the end.
> 
> Also the chapter title probably won't make much sense til the end so again, uh, sorry.

Gohan propped his chin in his hand and stared dully out the window. He hadn't gotten to do any sparring for two whole days now. It wasn't that he _missed it_ , exactly, he was just used to it. His whole routine had gotten all messed up.

If Yamcha was still there, he could spar with him some, but he'd left a week ago now to visit Tien. He'd come back, he'd said he would, but that didn't change the fact that he was gone _now_. His mother wouldn't spar with him--she'd play with the rings with him sometimes, but that was all. With his dad and Piccolo away all day, there was nothing he could do.

It was all Yamcha’s fault. If he hadn't gone away, his mom wouldn't need someone to drive her into town, and she wouldn't have insisted on his dad and Piccolo getting their driver's licenses. Gohan’s schedule was a mess and he hated it.

He went back to his book. There was no use complaining about it. Complaining wouldn’t change anything.

~~~

Bulma pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She was so _stupid_. For all her genius and her six PhD’s and inventions and her _fucking company_ , she could be mind-bogglingly idiotic sometimes. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

It had been an impulsive decision made in the heat of the moment, and at the time it had seemed like a great idea. She was frustrated, he was gorgeous, and honestly? It had been _great_. Bulma wasn’t totally convinced she wouldn’t do it again, even knowing the disastrous consequences she’d ended up with.

She’d already made up her mind what she was going to do. She wasn’t totally sure an abortion would work properly on a half-Saiyan kid, and giving a half-Saiyan up for adoption was absolutely not an option. But she knew she could survive giving birth to one if Chi-Chi had, so that was what she’d have to do. It definitely wasn’t her ideal scenario, but it was what had to happen.

But hell if this didn’t screw with her entire life. She’d even gotten into _yet another_ fight with Yamcha over it. The more time that passed since then, the worse she felt about that fight. He’d come looking to make amends, and she’d basically told him she was pregnant with someone else’s kid and wanted nothing to do with him.

She had to at least try to make things right. Even if romance was never going to work out between them, Yamcha was one of her oldest friends. She had to at least offer an olive branch.

Bulma reached for the phone, hesitating only when she went to dial and realised she had no idea where he was. He’d flown off after their shouting match, and judging by Chi-Chi’s phone call a few hours later hadn’t gone straight to the Son house. Still, it was as decent a place to start as any, and she dialled their number, fingers crossed under the table.

It was, unsurprisingly, Chi-Chi who answered the phone. “Hi,” Bulma said, trying to sound happier than she was. She didn’t think she was doing a very good job of it. “It’s Bulma. Is Yamcha there?”

“No, he isn’t.” Chi-Chi sounded clipped and formal, the way she always did when she was upset. Bulma grimaced. Yamcha must have told her what had happened. “You just missed him; he left to train with Tien and Chiaotzu about a week ago.”

Bulma groaned and put her head down on the table. “Great. It’s next to impossible to find those guys without ki sense.”

“If he comes back, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Thanks.” Bulma paused. “Chi-Chi, I don’t know what Yamcha told you, but...I’m sorry. I promise I’m trying to find him so I can tell him that, and that’s all.”

There was a pause from the other end of the line. When Chi-Chi spoke again, her voice sounded softer. “I’ll tell him,” she said quietly, and there was something of a smile to it.

“Okay, thanks.” Bulma said her goodbyes and hung up. Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair. Looked like she was just going to have to wait until he got back. In the meantime, though, she had shit to get done. She stood and stretched before heading towards her workshop. Those damn training drones of Vegeta’s weren’t going to fix themselves.

~~~

Yamcha grinned at Tien from his position upside down in the trees. “I think I win.”

Tien snorted as he pulled himself up off the ground. “What makes you think I’m done?”

A giant green hand shoved him down and pinned him to the ground. “Uh, that,” Yamcha snickered. “Like I said, I think I win.”

Tien struggled in vain for a minute before giving up and flopping back down. “Okay, fine, I yield. Let me up already.”

Grinning, Yamcha dismissed his construct and flipped down from the tree. He was wearing his Green Lantern uniform, and his ring still had a faint glow to it. Tien sat up, rubbing his chest where Yamcha’s hand had pressed down on it. “That’s cheating,” he said, pointing to the ring.

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.” Yamcha folded his arms. “And you don’t get to talk about cheating, Mr. Only-Won-The-Budokai-Because-He-Can-Fly.”

Tien raised an eyebrow. “You can fly too.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t back then.” Yamcha stretched his arms over his head. “Back then, you and Chiaotzu were the only people who could.” He held out his hand to help Tien up. “Besides, how is using all the tools available to me cheating? Martial arts, ki, ring powers, weapons--they’re all tools that help me achieve my goals.”

“Alright, fine, it’s not cheating.” Tien let himself be pulled to his feet. “But it’s still an unfair advantage.”

“You can clone yourself and grow extra arms,” Yamcha pointed out. “Don’t talk to me about unfair advantages.”

Tien rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Water break?”

Yamcha shrugged and followed him back to their campsite. Chiaotzu was nowhere to be found; Tien assumed he was off practising with his psychic powers. He’d been doing that a lot more lately, saying it was the only way he was going to be able to keep up with everyone else. “You can only incapacitate someone with a stomach ache so many times,” he’d said.

Tien tossed Yamcha one of their water bottles and settled against a rock to drink his. “You never told me why you left Goku’s place.”

Yamcha choked on his water and Tien started. He hadn’t expected that. Yamcha sat and coughed for a minute, holding up a hand to show he was okay, before taking a shaky breath and looking at Tien again. “Sorry,” he croaked, “I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“Are you okay?” Tien asked. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

“No, it’s fine, I just…” Yamcha ran a hand through his bowl cut. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask about it.”

Tien shrugged. “When you showed up here all you said was that you needed a change of scenery and to get away from the Sons for a while. I get that Goku can be...overwhelming, sure, but you’ve never had that issue with him before.”

Yamcha looked away. “Things have changed. With all the power rings flying around these days--did I tell you Chi-Chi got one, too?” Tien nodded. “Yeah, just--Gohan’s growing up way too fast, and Goku and Chi-Chi are this crazy power couple now, and--I don’t know. I just had to get out of there before I got too jealous.”

“Jealous?” Tien blinked. “Of what?”

Yamcha rolled his eyes. “Maybe I want to be part of a crazy battle couple too, ever think of that?”

Tien could feel a flush creeping up his neck. “Uh, Yamcha, I’m flattered, but--”

“Not with you!” Yamcha snapped, face red. “Just--in general! You know?”

A vague memory of green and purple floated through Tien’s mind and he brushed it away. “No.”

“Of course you don’t.” Yamcha threw his hands up in exasperation. “Why am I not surprised.”

“Look, there’s someone out there for you.” Tien paused. “Probably. You just have to find them, that’s all.”

Yamcha shrugged and stood up. “Maybe, but it’s looking increasingly unlikely.” He twisted at the waist. “Whatever, let’s get back into it.”

Tien nodded and started to rise, but a familiar ki tickled the edge of his senses. “Hold on; I think Piccolo’s coming.”

Sure enough, Piccolo flew into view a few moments later, touching down just in front of their campsite. His arms were folded and his face impassive, but the ghost of a smile flickered across his face when he looked at Tien. Tien nodded by way of greeting. “Hey,” Yamcha said, hands in his pockets. “What’re you doing all the way out here?”

“Getting you,” Piccolo told him. Yamcha’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Bulma called the house. She’s looking for you.” Yamcha groaned and buried his face in his hands. Tien glanced at him, concerned. From what Yamcha had told him, his last conversation with Bulma hadn’t gone well. Tien didn’t know the details, because it wasn’t his business so he hadn’t asked, but from Yamcha’s reaction he wasn’t really looking forward to his next conversation with her either. “I needed to get out of the house, so I volunteered to come tell you.”

Sighing, Yamcha lifted his face and abandoned his Lantern uniform, dropping back to his jeans and sweatshirt that he’d put on that morning. “I’d better go see what she wants,” he said apologetically to Tien.

Tien nodded. Leaving Bulma hanging was rarely a good idea. “Chiaotzu and I will still be here when you’re done. Good luck.”

Waving unenthusiastically, Yamcha took off in the general direction of Capsule Corp. Tien turned to Piccolo. “So you needed to get out of the house, too?”

Piccolo turned and blinked confusedly down at Tien. “What?”

“Yamcha said he left because he needed to get away from the Sons for a bit. Are they really being that…” Tien trailed off, waving vaguely as he tried to come up with the right word. “Overwhelming?” he finally asked.

“It’s Goku,” Piccolo said bluntly. “When is he not?” Tien looked away to hide his smile. When Piccolo was right, he was right. “It’s not just him,” Piccolo continued, “things have been going downhill for a week now. Chi-Chi is even crankier than usual and tried to make Goku and I learn how to drive since Yamcha’s not around to take her into town anymore. Gohan’s progressing nicely power-wise, but he’s retreating into his shell again. And Goku...well, he’s Goku.” Piccolo sighed. “He means well, but he’s too soft on Gohan and he’s been weirdly quiet all week. It’s disturbing.”

Tien shook his head. “I never expected this kind of drama from the Son household. They always seemed like they were pretty well put together, even with the bickering.”

Piccolo grunted in agreement. “So,” he said, turning to fully face Tien, “would it be okay if I stuck around here? I did promise to train with you, after all, and there’s only two years left.”

Tien felt his heart lift. “Absolutely,” he blurted. “I’d love to train with you.”

A somewhat bemused smile crossed Piccolo’s lips, and Tien wondered if he should be embarrassed at how enthusiastic he was. But no, it was nothing to be embarrassed about. He liked Piccolo, in spite of everything, and he knew he’d never hold back in a fight. He’d make a great training partner, at least while Yamcha was unavailable.

“If you say so.” Piccolo tossed his weighted training gear aside and shifted into his favourite starting position. “I’m ready when you are, Tenshinhan.”

~~~

Yamcha wished he’d put on nicer clothes that morning. It wasn’t like it had mattered to him or Tien what he was wearing for training, and he usually ended up covering his clothes up with his Green Lantern uniform anyway. Now he was going to look like he was falling apart without his girlfriend, which was never a good look.

He straightened his sweatshirt as he waited for someone to answer the door. It wasn’t his ugly moth-eaten sweater that he only wore on cleaning days, anyway. At least that was something.

The door opened to reveal Mrs. Briefs, smiling as usual. She ushered him inside, chattering merrily at him the whole time, telling him Bulma was expecting him, offering him tea and snacks no fewer than eight times. Yamcha let himself relax a little as she led him through the house. Whatever was going on between him and Bulma, her parents had always been very understanding and welcoming of him. The familiarity brought him a little boost of confidence. Whatever Bulma had to say to him, he could handle.

“Well, here we are!” Mrs. Briefs finally said, opening the door to Bulma’s workshop. Yamcha could have found his way there by himself, having lived with the Briefs for a good ten years, but Mrs. Briefs always insisted on showing him through the house. He got the impression she was a little lonely sometimes and made a mental note to have a real conversation with her before he left.

“Thanks, Mrs. Briefs,” he said politely, slipping inside. “I’ll...see you later?”

She tittered and closed the door behind him. Scratching the back of his head, he turned to see where Bulma was.

Either she hadn’t heard him come in or she was ignoring him, because she was still bent over some small machinery at her workbench, back hunched and eyes squinting in concentration. He thought about trying to get her attention, but interrupting her when she was so deep in thought had never worked out for him before. Instead he maneuvered himself so he was in her line of sight and waited.

“Just give me a minute,” she said, not looking up. She tightened one last screw and set the box-shaped device on her workbench before straightening and grabbing a rag to wipe her hands on. Her hair was straight again, he noticed, pulled into a quick ponytail that had hairs sticking out of it all over the place. Part of him ached--this was the version of her he’d always liked most, the engineering genius in her natural habitat. Greasy and gorgeous, and it spoke to her trust of him that she’d let him see her like this. He hoped that the fact that she wanted to talk to him in her workshop was a good sign.

“So what’s up?” he asked, hoping for casual but pretty sure it came out forced. “I thought you were pretty clear last time we talked that it would _be_ the last time we talked.” He winced. This wasn’t how he wanted this conversation to go.

To his surprise, instead of snapping and getting defensive, Bulma cringed and looked at the floor. “Look,” she said, hands on her hips, “a lot of stuff was said. Some of it we meant, some of it we didn’t.” Bulma shrugged. “I just thought we should talk and iron out which was which.”

Yamcha nodded, sinking into a chair. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go first.” He took a breath. “I’m sorry for calling you--what I called you. It was mean and untrue and I didn’t mean it.” That was a lie. Yes, he was sorry, but he’d absolutely meant it at the time. Now, though, with the benefit of hindsight, he could see that calling Bulma names was just...unfair.

But she just shrugged again and leaned against her workbench. “I’m sorry I yelled at you when you showed up. I was going through a lot and...well, that’s no excuse, but it’s true. Turns out being pregnant screws with your emotions a bunch.”

He laughed weakly. “No kidding.” He did his best to keep his eyes on her face, but they kept straying back down to her stomach. Her coveralls did a good job of hiding her pregnancy, he had to admit.

She noticed where he was looking and rolled her eyes. “I’m not showing much yet, dingus.” It was affectionate, and his heart lifted a little. If they were able to call each other endearing insults again, maybe things were going better than he thought.

“So.” Yamcha cleared his throat. “How--how far along are you?”

“About four months.” Bulma rolled her eyes. “Mom’s already gone way overboard. She says it’s the grandma’s job to be doting and stuff, but I think she’s just looking for an excuse to buy cute baby clothes and take up knitting.”

Yamcha shook his head. “That sounds like your mom.”

The two of them sat in somewhat awkward silence for a few minutes. Yamcha pressed his lips together, trying to think of a way to phrase his question that didn’t sound accusatory or, worse, whiny. “Why’d you do it?” he finally blurted.

She blinked at him. “Do what?”

“You know.” He gestured vaguely towards her. “You and...Vegeta.” It left a bad taste in his mouth to even say his name out loud. “That’s not a matchup I would’ve seen in a million years, and--I know we were on a break and all but-- _Vegeta_ , Bulma, seriously?” He could hear himself spiralling into anger and hurt, and he stopped to take a steadying breath. “I just don’t understand why you’d--with _him_ \--that’s all.”

She folded her arms and stared him down. “Be honest,” she said. “If this was anyone else’s kid, would you be this upset?”

He paused. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I think I’d be upset if you went out and got pregnant with some random guy, but the fact that it’s Vegeta--he _killed_ people, Bulma. I know he doesn’t treat you and your parents well, either.” He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I just want to understand.”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Then Bulma spoke up again. “He’s hot.”

Yamcha lifted his head to stare disbelievingly at her. “Seriously?”

“Look, Yamcha, have you _seen_ him?” Bulma waved in the general direction of the gravity chamber outside. “He’s _hot_.”

“He’s short and has a weird face!”

She fixed him with a hard look. “You look at him shirtless and sweating and tell me you don’t wonder what it’s like having him look that way because of you.”

Yamcha clapped his hands over his ears. “Okay, too much information, I’m sorry I asked!”

“The point is,” Bulma continued, ignoring him, “he’s hot, I was in a dry spell because we’d broken up again, it was a fling.” She paused. “It was a _good_ fling, but that’s all it was. A fling. I didn’t cheat on you, and it wasn’t specifically with Vegeta just to spite you, if that’s what you’re asking. Not everything’s about you, you know.”

Yamcha folded his arms. “I never said it was, and I never said you cheated on me.”

“You were thinking it, though, I can tell.”

“Look, B.” Yamcha ran his hands through his hair. “I just...I can’t keep doing this, you know? That’s why I left that time. I mean, the yelling and the arguing just got too much, and that was part of it for sure, but I can’t...the way we’ve been going, I can’t do it anymore.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. “We’re just going to rip each other apart if we keep trying. And that...that scared me when I first figured it out.”

“I know.” Her voice was quiet. “Me too. But I think…” She sighed. “I think we should try being friends again. We always seemed to do pretty well at that part.”

Yamcha lifted his head to look at her. Bulma was smiling at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. She was so pretty when she smiled and it always brought a smile out of him. “Yeah,” he said. “We did.”

~~~

There was something wrong with her. There had to be. Otherwise there was no way Chi-Chi would be _missing_ having a loud and chaotic household.

It was still more loud and chaotic than she used to prefer. She’d always wanted a nice, quiet household with her wonderful husband and their sweet, adorable son. But somewhere over the rushed events of the last few months, a house filled with just the right amount of pandemonium reminded her that the people she cared about most were here and safe, and they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she missed Yamcha and Piccolo.

She’d noticed not long after Yamcha had left that it had thrown off some of the balance of their household. Gohan was a little quieter and more withdrawn, missing his surrogate uncle. Goku pushed himself harder than ever in his training, which was nothing new, but there was something different about it. Chi-Chi couldn’t put her finger on what. Piccolo got steadily more and more annoyed with all of them, and when Chi-Chi had said someone needed to go find Yamcha he’d all but jumped at the opportunity. And of course one of Gohan’s favourite people leaving hadn’t helped her son’s mood at all.

Chi-Chi viciously scrubbed a plate, grumbling under her breath. She wasn’t dealing with this well at all. Something was going to have to give, and soon.

A pained scream pierced the air and her head snapped up. She threw the plate into the sink and shot outside, hastily drying her hands on her apron. Goku was there already, a protective blue glow around him from his ring already, hovering in the air with his eyes trained on something in the distance. After a moment’s hesitation, Chi-Chi activated her own ring and flew up beside him. The scream came again, and she winced. “Goku, what’s going on?”

He kept his eyes on whatever he was looking at--she couldn’t see it yet--but took her hand and squeezed it. “That’s Tien’s ki coming towards us, but I don’t think it’s him screaming. He’s got...someone with him, but I can’t figure out their ki. I don’t know what’s going on.”

A translucent green bubble appeared around the three of them and Gohan was at her other side, Green Lantern uniform and all. “Mom?”

“Go back inside,” she told him, knowing full well he would not.

“No,” he said, predictably. “I have to help.”

Before she could argue further, Tien came into sight through the trees. He was soaring full-tilt towards them, all three eyes wide and panicked, and half-supported at his side was the source of the screaming. It was Piccolo, howling in agony, clutching his head, eyes squeezed tight, wounds on his arms from where he’d been clawing at himself.

Gohan dropped his shield and rushed forward before Chi-Chi could stop him, and Goku was right up with him. The four of them met on the ground, and Chi-Chi lowered herself towards them, though it took more of a conscious effort than it did the other two. “What happened?” Gohan was asking. He sounded on the edge of crying, but was managing not to. “What’s the matter with Piccolo?”

“I don’t know,” Tien said, shifting to lower Piccolo to the ground. He immediately curled into a ball, covering his head and face with his arms and still shrieking. “We--we were sparring, and then one of those _things_ came and then Piccolo collapsed--”

“What things?” Chi-Chi asked.

Tien pointed at Piccolo’s hand. A strange, blue-purple ring was clamped firmly around his right middle finger, glowing softly but intently. “I didn’t know what else to do,” Tien said helplessly. “I--Gohan, I know this is asking a lot, but can you help him?”

Gohan clutched Chi-Chi’s dress, eyes wide and horrified. “Did--did it say anything?”

“One word.” Tien took a breath. “Nok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOHHHHHHHHH


End file.
